Untimely Phobia
by Serinidia
Summary: Author Universe: Neal's got claustrophobia but he's always been able to control whenever he gets stuck in a tight situation...until now... What will happen when the cover is blown? Neal whumpage and Worried Peter. Neal Peter friendship. Not Slash
1. Taken

**Author's Notes: I gave ghostdolly the ability to decide what the next plot line should be and she decided that she wanted a scenario where Neal's claustrophobia gets the better of him**

_**Edit**__: This story has been edited as of Tuesday, July 24th, 2012 in order to correct errors and take out lyrics seeing as lyrics are no longer my writing style. There might be minor changes to the wording but everything else will be left intact just as it was originally uploaded._

Neal tucked his hands into the pockets of the long trench coat and shivered slightly. The slick metal against his chest made him want to be sick but the weapon was for his own safety.

Or so he'd been told.

This time Peter wouldn't be there to watch his back. Peter's replacement was a small and nervous looking older man that highly distrusted the young con artist. Which in turn led to Neal being used in the insulting role as bait.

Neal didn't like being used as bait but it was either that or go back to prison. A snitch would never be welcomed with open arms.

Shaking his head wearily, Neal leaned up against the wall. He had a pounding headache and nothing he did would make the migraine go away. The rain continued to pummate the earth around him and Neal glanced up at the sky in annoyance.

His dark brown hair was soaked, hell, his entire body was soaked and he sneezed miserably. Great, just great the last thing he needed was to get sick right now.

"Mr. Bargfried?" The deep baritone voice rumbled Neal's alias as an average looking man walked over to him.

"Ah, Stan. You're finally here." Neal answered doing his best to hold back a sneeze.

"Do you have what I want?"

"Yes."

"Please, you go first." To anyone else it would like the older man was simply being polite. Stan gestured towards the open elevator doors.

Neal complied reluctantly, unable to keep the tremor from running through his body. The elevator was small, just enough for three average sized people to fit in. _So far so good, just remember you're a calm, elegant con artist. _He didn't bother to correct the statement.

When two more men crowded into the elevator Neal got nervous, very nervous. Stan was supposed to have come here alone.

Neal shifted uncomfortably and edged away from the men and the corner. He was beginning to sweat as the tight bands of fear started to pound through his system.

It was crowded…

Way too crowded…

What was he doing here? Why was he here? At first Neal couldn't remember

His memory caught up with him pretty fast and he knew that he had to do something.

They were in his personal space and his control on his claustrophobia was slipping quickly.

"Let's figure something out that we both agree on." Neal commented amiably as he gave the code words.

When nothing happened five minutes later Neal felt his breathing being restricted. The tight bands of fear were beginning to take complete control and his heart rate sped up even more. _Come on, I know you don't like me but please get me out of here,_ Neal begged his temporary team silently.

Stan was asking him something, but Neal couldn't comprehend the question. He was like a rabbit caught up in the wolf's stare. He was powerless to do anything.

The criminal moved even closer and Neal shrank back. His control was completely gone now. "Get away from me!" The command exploded out of Neal's mouth before he could filter it.

Stan looked at Neal in confusion before a small glint lit up his hazel eyes. "I knew it! I knew this whole thing was a set-up!" Anger took its place in the man's eyes and Neal shrank back even more.

He was in no mood to put up with this. Nausea gripped his stomach and Neal groaned, turning to the side. His head was spinning and the only thing the ex-con man wanted was for the spinning to stop.

"Who are you working for?" Stan's loud voice cut through Neal's thoughts and the younger man groaned miserably.

All he wanted was to be left alone. Was that really so much to ask?

"If you don't get away from me I'll puke on you." Neal threatened quietly. The statement reminded him of a sign in a zoo in the monkey exhibit that read: Caution:: Stand away from the monkey cage or the animals will fling their dung at you. Proceed at your own risk.

He couldn't remember which zoo the sign was from, but he remembered laughing hysterically over it. Then again he had been drugged on pain meds at the time.

Stan backed off immediately and Neal sighed in relief. That relief didn't last long though since a very pissy voice was screaming at him over the com link.

"What the hell do you think you're doing Caffrey?" Agent Blackney demanded over the com, the fury easily heard.

Neal ignored the voice and winced when Blackney started screaming again. _God I wish I was with my regular team on this one, _the young con artist mused as he watched the men surrounding him warily.

_Peter, I know you're sick but I really need you to just come in here and kick ass like you always do_, the thought was wistful and Neal knew that it wouldn't come true.

He was on his own and he also knew that if he wanted to he could easily make a run for it. But he wouldn't, simply because he didn't want to have to run in order to be free. No his freedom would not come this way.

Something caught him in the jaw and the last thought he had before blacking out was what his life would be like if he hadn't become a con man.

**Author's Note: Please Leave Me A Review!**


	2. Snuffles and Running

_**Author's Note: Oh, wow! You guys are amazing! So many views for this story! Just about keeled over when I saw the amount of faves, watches and reviews for it. I usually get them slowly (but their still there nonetheless) and never that quick! I would like to thank Mareen for pointing out that I forgot to post the credits for the lyrics. The lyrics for Chapter 1**_ _**are The Good Life by Three Days Grace. **_

_**I thought that I saw somewhere that Neal was claustrophobic. I could be wrong and if so, I'll change the description to something else.**_

* * *

Peter Burke sniffled pathetically as he leaned against the bathroom wall. His stomach had been pitching a hissy fit the entire night and for most of the morning. The agent could smell the food El was making for her lunch and his mouth watered.

Deviled ham… he would give almost anything for a good deviled ham sandwich that would actually stay down.

His thoughts flashed to Neal as he wondered what the younger man was doing. Hughes had told him that Neal would be assigned to a different team for the day and that the ex-con would probably be stuck with heaps of paperwork to do.

The image of Neal sitting in a desk stuck with paperwork for the day brought a smirk to Burke's lips. No doubt the childish felon would be pulling pranks on the team.

He heard footsteps come up the steps and he perked up a little bit when he saw Elizabeth enter their bathroom.

"How are you feeling?" She asked as she felt his forehead. Her expression was one of concern. "I brought you some bedding so that you aren't too uncomfortable up here." El gestured to the long mattress-like object right outside the door. There were blanket, sheets and a book sitting on top of it.

A look of relief flashed across Peter's face as he grinned widely at her. "That would be amazing."

El smiled back at him and quickly arranged the cushion so that Peter would still have easy access to the toilet, while being far enough away so that he wasn't staring at the basin. She helped him up as he transferred from the cold, hard floor to the comfy make-shift mattress.

"What are you thinking about?" El asked when she saw the thoughtful line in his brow furrow while he stared off into space.

"Tonight. I was supposed to take you out tonight." Peter directed his gaze to the toilet with a feeling of loathing.

El leaned in and gave him a quick hug. "We can always re-schedule. It's not the end of the world."

"This is why I love you."

Elizabeth Burke just smiled as she sat next to her sick husband.

* * *

Neal Caffrey woke to a pounding headache that threatened to make his head explode. He was sitting upright in a small room and the lighting was very dim. _Figures, it __**has**__ to be small_, Neal thought moodily.

The ropes were cutting into the tender flesh of his wrists and he could feel warm blood trickling down them. The crick in his neck refused to go away and the young man sighed in annoyance.

"Glad to see that you are awake." Stan's voice made Neal jump in surprise. "Who are you working for?"

_Hello to you to_, Neal tried to turn his head so that he could see the other man but stopped when a searing pain shot down his back.

When Neal remained silent Stan sat down heavily on the chair opposite of Neal and stared at the ex-con artist scathingly.

"I wouldn't try to move if I were you." Stan scolded.

_No duh Einstein_, Neal retorted mentally as he fought to keep his face calm and relaxed. He fidgeted restlessly and stared at the other man coldly.

"If you don't start talking that pain in your neck is only going to get worse."

"Screw you." Neal hissed as he inwardly braced himself for what was about to happen.

It felt like every bone in his body was being broken simultaneously and then trampled on. He couldn't hold back the scream of pain as his body convulsed helplessly while the electricity shot through it.

He whimpered softly and did his best to look casual once the electricity stopped.

"Wrong answer."

* * *

"This is Hughes." The older agent stated as he flipped open his phone. His expression darkened as he listened to the other man on the end of the phone.

"He did WHAT?" Hughes snapped as he turned around and walked over to the computer screen. "I'll send out some men to get him. In the mean time I need you to tell me everything that happened Blackney. Where do you think he went?"

"Can't you pull up his location on the computer boss?" Blackney asked as he fidgeted with his tie.

"No. The tracker's been turned off or cut."

Blackney smiled as he told his version of Neal's disappearance to Hughes. _This is going to be fun, serves that fucking know-it-all-pet-convict right. Yes, Neal ran away from his masters' like a bad widdle mutt._

Hughes was defiantly outraged by the time Blackney finished talking and he was already calling Peter's cell with the office phone before he had even hung up.

* * *

Peter was sleeping with one arm tucked under his head and the other hugging the spare pillow that Elizabeth had brought up. He was lying on his stomach, facing away from the toilet.

His cell phone was next to the bed on the tile floor, hooked up to its charger. It went off suddenly and the buzz that it made when it vibrated scared the crap out of Peter. He hit his head on the side of the bath tub and swore as he reached for the phone with a murderess glare.

The caller id was Hughes.

"Burke." Peter answered tiredly.

"Do you know where Caffrey is?" Hughes sounded mad.

"No? Why?" The sleep that had been fogging Peter's brain a few minutes before vanished at the mention of Neal. From the way Hughes was talking, Peter was sure that the reformed con artist was in a crap load of trouble.

"He ran out during a mission. Cut the tracker and everything."

_God damn it Neal. Why the hell did you have to pull this stunt now?_ "What would you like me to do?"

"Find him and drag his sorry ass back here. We'll decide what to do with him once we've caught him."

Peter frowned, "Ok, but sir, whose team was he on at the time?"

"Blackney's." There was a click as Hughes hung up.

Peter groaned and ran a hand through his hair. Agent Blackney had never been to keen on having Neal around and Peter wondered if the other agent had caused something to happen to Neal.

Odds were, Neal hadn't run away. The younger man might be a bit wayward at times but he wouldn't be stupid enough to run away. Not when Peter could help him find out who killed Kate.

Peter sighed and let his brain start working…

* * *

_**Author's Note: Will Peter get well soon enough and figure out what really happened in time to save Neal? Will Barkney get away with his lie? Please review to find out =)**_


	3. Electricity and Hopes

_**Author's Note: Wow, you guys thank you for all of the encouragement and support for this story! Sorry about the lack of lyrics in the last chapter but I couldn't find any that were suitable and didn't have lavish amounts of time with which I could go searching so I had to do without. Luckily for you guys I found some for this chapter. You might have to dig deep in order to understand how they relate to the story but I have faith in the fact that you can do it =) Enjoy!**_

**_Lyrics: The Presence by Vasaria_**

* * *

Imagine yourself in a distant far off area in a far off  
Place you've never been or known of before...

* * *

"Let's try this again." Stan commented as he resumed his seat in the chair opposite of Neal. He grinned as he studied the younger man in front of him. "Who are you working for Caffrey?"

Neal tensed as he stared at the ground resolutely. He had been asked this question at least fifty different times over the course of the night and well into the morning. His body was throbbing from the electricity that had been used to punish him. Neal's mid-section was bloody and the expensive shirt was ruined. Breathing hurt because his diaphragm had been damaged with the blade of a knife.

"You should learn better manners Neal." Stan lectured with another wolfish grin. Standing, he walked over so that he was in front of Neal and looked deep into the younger man's eyes. The blue orbs were dull and clouded, probably because of the amount of pain he was in. Stan balled up his fist and then drove it into the knife wound while he electrocuted the ex-con in front of him.

Neal screamed, the pain was unbearable and he attempted to double over. His shoulders were slammed back up against the back of his chair and Neal whimpered softly. Help wasn't going to arrive any time soon and the thirty-two year old knew this. He had to stay strong and keep his mouth shut.

But why?

Its not like Blackney would be searching frantically for him and Peter was out sick with a stomach bug.

_Because its the right thing to do_, Neal snorted and turned his head away from Stan. _Since when did I start caring about right and wrong?_ The question was rhetorical. _Since he had met Peter Burke._

* * *

Imagine the full moon illuminating brightly, almost maniacally, through drifting clouds.  
The cold night air shimmers as strange sounds emanate from the distance...

* * *

Five hours later Neal was left alone. Those hours had gone by so slowly for the felon that Neal had thought it would never end. His body ached and his head was throbbing mercilessly as he remained in the tied up position. His butt hurt from being sat on for too long.

_Peter, I really need you to get here right now_, Neal thought as he tried to wriggle into a more comfortable position.

It was impossible to sleep and Neal groaned in irritation. He shifted again before pausing when he felt something hard and rectangular in the back pocket of his pants. _Stupid idiots forgot to take my cell phone_, he realized and felt a blaze of hope surge through him.

An hour later Neal had to admit that he was never going to be able to get to the device under the current circumstances. _Damn it_, he growled the words mentally, _Mozzie always told me that I should learn to butt-dial in case something happened. Should have listened to him_.

* * *

Peter trudged into the office tiredly and sipped at the hot coffee in his right hand. The liquid scalded his tongue but he didn't care. The agent met up with Hughes in the older man's office and was quickly debriefed.

"Caffrey wouldn't run."

"You can't know that."

"He wouldn't run in that kind of a situation."

"He could have conned us into setting up the meeting knowing that he could get away."

"That's a load of bull and you know it."

"Peter, we can't be sure of anything right now." The tone had taken on a hint of warning.

Peter sneezed violently and paced back in forth. "Let me look into it Hughes."

"What else did you think I called you in here for?"

Peter shrugged. "I don't know, maybe to tell me to stay the hell away from the case?"

Hughes sighed. "Go get to work."

"Yes sir."

* * *

Jones and Diana were waiting for him outside his office. Neal's desk was empty except for a single case file. Peter frowned and picked it up.

"I take it this was from the case he was assigned?"

The other two agents nodded.

Peter flipped the manila folder opened and scanned through the contents thoroughly. "Wasn't this supposed to be our case?"

"Yeah." Jones answered softly.

Peter frowned again but didn't say anything for a few minutes before barking, "Get your gear and meet me at the surveillance van."

The ride to the site was quiet and Peter was going through the file from Neal's desk again hoping to find some vital information.

Nothing.

Peter growled in frustration. _Where are you Neal_?

* * *

Elizabeth had ordered Chinese food from one of the local restaurants and was waiting patiently for Peter to come home. Her husband had rushed out of the house earlier that morning and hadn't explained why he was going to work when he was still sick.

When he had called her half an hour ago he had sounded worried and desperate even though he had tried to hide both emotions.

Five minutes later the front door opened and Satchamo barked happily.

"Hey honey." El stood up and walked over to him, concerned. "Everything ok?"

_Always straight to the point aren't you El_? Peter asked mentally although he already knew the answer to that.

"No. Neal went missing last night while on an operation and we haven't been able to find him. Most of the office thinks that he ran, but I don't believe that. I _don't want_ to believe that."

El nodded in understanding as she guided him over to the table and got him to sit down in the chair.

"You're usually right."

A deep sigh. "I need proof."

"You'll find him, I know you will."

They ate the rest of the dinner in silence, each of them thinking about different things.

* * *

Neal shuddered violently as he sought a release from the pain. It burned through him with a vengeance, refusing to let him rest. A small gasp escaped tightly pursed lips, the clenched jaw. He had never hurt so much in his life.

* * *

Imagine the feeling of extreme confusion, then mortification as you suddenly sense a presence  
Before you. It beckons to you, wordless, overpowering. You've never known anything like this  
Before. You attempt to utter a sound, a scream but you are unable...

* * *

The darkness was beckoning and even though Neal knew that it was not sleep he still reached for it with longing.

He just wanted to let it all go for a little while. The darkness was mysterious but Neal didn't care.

* * *

Imagine the fear you felt only moments earlier mysteriously subside.  
You're not sure how or why but it all seems beautiful to you.  
You recall it with loving remembrance. Meanwhile the presence embarks upon you,  
Closer and closer. You attempt again to utter a sound, a moan.  
This time you are successful. You welcome the presence with open arms...

It's time...

* * *

The lids that had been fighting to close for so long finally fluttered shut over the striking blue eyes. The body tied to the chair heaved a sigh of relief and stilled. The room was silent save for the sound of dripping blood...

* * *

**_Author's Note: Did you like it? Were you able to figure out the part in the lyrics about the moon? Tell me your guess and in the next chapter I'll reveal the answer. Please send your loyal authoress a nice review!_**


	4. Conning the FBI

_**Author's Note: Once again, sorry for the delay guys. See **__**Broken Glass**__** for the reasoning behind the delay… anyways I believe I owe you guys an explanation for the moon part of the lyrics from the last chapter. I had asked you guys to guess and I am happy to say that Damon's Bitch 13 guessed partially-correctly. The moon symbolizes Peter and the clouds are the obstacles Peter is going to have to overcome to get to Neal. The sounds part of the moon part refers to Neal remembering all of the times Peter's saved his butt and how Peter will more than likely threaten him with prison time for causing him so much worry. Lyrics: **_**_Whataya Want From Me by Adam Lambert._**

* * *

"Are we done?" Blackney's voice snipped as the man got up from his seat across from Peter Burke. It was clear to Jones and Diana that the man wasn't asking but telling them that this topic was closed.

But Burke didn't seem to get that message. Or if he did, the agent didn't acknowledge it. He nodded to Jones and Diana and the other two agents were in front of the door in a flash, successfully barring the way with smirks written on their lips.

Blackney growled in annoyance as he spun around to face Peter.

"I never dismissed you." Peter stated, his calm demeanor was belied by the angry spark in his eyes.

"Who said you were in control of me?" The shorter man snapped. "The only person I listen to is Hughes."

"Well, Blackney since you insist on doing things the hard way…" Peter smiled as he pressed a few buttons on the phone that rested on his desk.

"SIT DOWN!" The command blasted from the phone so loudly that everyone in the room jumped and the agents that had been passing by outside paused and looked at Peter's door with raised eyebrows.

Peter winced and turned the speaker volume down as he gestured for Blackney to reclaim the seat. "Thank you," Peter sighed before directing his attention back on Blackney. "Why are you so eager to leave?"

"I have other cases to solve."

"And I am missing my consultant."

"That's your problem not mine."

Peter could hear the _Neal voice_ in his head quipping an '_well its your problem now buddy boy_' and the corners of his mouth twitched into a smile.

"Is that so?" The question was filled with an underlying tint of venom.

Blackney sneered as he replied, "Yes, now if you'll excuse me the rest of my team needs me at the Metropolitan Museum of Art."

Peter's fingers gripped the pen he was holding so tightly that they cracked. He scowled but when Hughes said that Blackney could now go he was forced to watch the agent walk out of his office.

* * *

"Did you get it done?" The question was whispered softly to a man dressed in rags outside of the Metropolitan Museum of Art.

"Yes, the heist was done in the style you told me to do it in."

"So I can successfully frame him for it?"

"Even Peter Burke will think that he did it."

"Excellent," Blackney praised before he whispered something else into the con man's ear. Hazel eyes widened in excitement and the man left quickly.

* * *

Blackney met up with the rest of the team, who had been waiting for his arrival impatiently. "What do we have?"

"Someone came in last night and stole the painting _The Three Ages of Man_."

"Any video footage?"

"No, whoever it was knew where the cameras where and avoided them."

Rogers ( a member of the team) led Blackney over to where the painting had been hanging and Blackney shot him a confused look.

"I take it this is a forgery?"

"Yeah, they didn't realize it until a few hours ago."

"Alright, let's bring the forgery back to the bureau so that we can run tests and examine it further there."

* * *

Neal Caffrey barely stifled the groan when he was hoisted up in the air and landed solidly on someone's back. He blinked once in confusion but forced himself to stay limp and closed his eyes again.

After what felt like a lifetime he was thrown to the ground and couldn't hold back the yelp. They were in an alleyway which confused Neal. He didn't have a clue as to what was going on and winced when the main muscle man shoved him up against the brick wall. Blue eyes widened in pain and surprise as the con-artist struggled to free himself.

* * *

Hey, slow it down  
What do you want from me  
What do you want from me  
Yeah, I'm afraid  
What do you want from me  
What do you from me

* * *

"For the last time Caffrey _who_ are you working for?"

Neal answered him in silence wishing that he was anywhere but here. He knew that if he had been assigned to any other handler except Peter he would've told by now. Neal wouldn't have given a rat's ass about telling and escaping.

* * *

There might have been a time  
I would give myself away  
(Ooh) Once upon a time  
I didn't give a damn  
But now here we are  
So what do you want from me  
What do you want from me

* * *

"Why where you attempting to con me into or out of something?"

"To get the shit beaten out of me, why else?" Neal normally would have remained silent but he was at the end of his nerves and had a feeling that he wasn't going to get out of this mess anyways. Not alive at least.

* * *

Just don't give up  
I'm workin' it out  
Please don't give in  
I won't let you down  
It messed me up, need a second to breathe  
Just keep coming around  
Hey, what do you want from me  
What do you want from me

* * *

He inhaled sharply, breath clogging in his airway as his lungs protested the sharp blow from the fist. The man pulled the fist back, the hand bloodied.

Then the fist slammed into the general area of the torn diaphragm and Neal yelped loudly as he attempted to double over.

* * *

Yeah, it's plain to see  
that baby you're beautiful  
And there's nothing wrong with you  
It's me – I'm a freak  
but thanks for lovin' me  
Cause you're doing it perfectly

* * *

Neal didn't notice that the tracker had turned itself on. _Candy_ was doing her best to save his life with by emitting a signal which would tell someone where he was.

The men didn't notice either.

* * *

There might have been a time  
When I would let you step away

I wouldn't even try but I think  
you could save my life

* * *

_Come on Peter, your timing has always been impeccable. Now would be a great time for you to keep that record._ Neal pleaded mentally as he squeezed his eyes shut when the fist connected with his stomach once more.

* * *

Just don't give up  
I'm workin' it out  
Please don't give in  
I won't let you down  
It messed me up, need a second to breathe  
Just keep coming around  
Hey, what do you want from me  
What do you want from me

* * *

_Whatever it is that you think I did, I can prove that I didn't do it. I know you probably think that I bailed out on the FBI but I didn't. Come on Peter you should know by now that I wouldn't do this. _Neal rambled on in his thoughts as his breath hitched yet again. There was a loud snapping noise and the young con artist screamed in pain.

Wide blue eyes begged the dark brown ones in front of him to stop. The only response that Neal got was another fist to the abdomen. The young man screamed again before the sound was choked off with another blow of the fist. His body curled around the man's arm and he whimpered softly.

* * *

Just don't give up on me  
I won't let you down  
No, I won't let you down

So  
Just don't give up  
I'm workin' it out  
Please don't give in  
I won't let you down  
It messed me up, need a second to breathe  
Just keep coming around  
Hey, what do you want from me

* * *

There was another loud snap and Neal felt his head crack against the bricks behind him but the pain told him that it hadn't been the sound of his head cracking that he had heard. He could feel his grip on consciousness slipping and he begged it to continue to slip.

That plea went on unacknowledged.

"P-et-er." The name of the FBI agent slipped past his lips in a sigh. He didn't know why it had but it had.

The beating stopped abruptly and then he heard Stan's voice asking him what Peter's last name was. _No, not telling you that you flea bitten scum bag._

"You should answer if you want it to end." Stan's voice advised lazily.

"S-ss-crew you." Neal gasped as he tried to make his voice work. He had intended for it to sound a bit tougher but instead it was weak and breathy.

Stan shook his head and motioned for his men to continue.

Neal felt himself released and his body dropped to the ground immediately. His sigh of relief turned to a gasp of pain when a boot slammed into his side. The broken ribs dug into the organs that they had been designed to protect. He heard something tossed onto the ground next to him and then the sound of footsteps walking away.

_Please Peter_, he cried mentally as tears of pain streamed down his face. _You have to believe me, I didn't do anything wrong. Please. Please help me._

_What if he isn't helping because he thinks you ran? What if he was watching the entire thing and was still watching and enjoying it?_

_No, Peter wouldn't do that._

_Then why isn't he here?_

_He just hasn't found me yet. But he will, he always does. Dead or alive._

_Preferably alive._

_He isn't coming, you're on your own kiddo. _The voice in his head insisted nastily.

Neal shook his head in disagreement. "He will." He didn't realize that he had breathed the words out loud.

* * *

"Peter? Neal's signal just came back up." Jones' voice was excited as he walked into Peter's office.

The older agent's head whipped around and away from the file he had been reading.

"Where?"

"An alley, its way outside of his radius."

"He didn't run." Peter said stubbornly as he saw a look of doubt flicker through Jones' eyes.

"I know boss."

"Get Diana, grab your stuff and get in the van." Peter ordered as he grabbed his jacket from its spot on the opposite chair.

"So as you can see sir, it reeks of Caffrey's style." Blackney finished as he looked up from the file and at Hughes.

There was a look of disappointment on the older man's face and Blackney felt like shouting from the excitement pooling in the pit of his stomach.

The office door flew open and a breathless Peter Burke rushed through it. "Hughes." Peter panted as he greeted the agent politely.

Hughes raised an eyebrow as he waited for Burke to explain himself.

"What are you doing in here?" Peter asked Blackney in a flicker of surprise and disbelief.

"Peter there is something you should know." Hughes handed the file to Burke.

Peter skimmed through the manila folder's contents and his face fell, shoulders drooping in a surprised disappointment. The con had Neal's style written all over it and Peter felt a surge of anger blaze through him.

Just a moment ago he had been so happy with the news of Caffrey's signal showing up again. Now, now he was livid.

How could Neal do this? How could the younger man throw everything he had been given, including Peter's friendship away?

"We think its Neal." Hughes said softly and that was when Peter realized that the folder had never mentioned who had orchestrated the elaborate con.

"It is." Peter replied brokenly as he handed the folder to his superior.

"What was it that you came in here to tell me?"

"Ne- Caffrey's signal just went back up. He's 134 miles outside of his radius."

"Well, you're going to need to arrest him and bring him in for questioning."

"I know!" Peter snapped and he glared at Blackney as he stalked past the other man before disappearing out the door.

* * *

An hour later due to speeding through heavy traffic two terrified federal agents sprang out of the back of the van. Peter had driven like all the forces of hell were out to get them and his two companions were happy to be back on the ground.

"You two go that way and I'll go this way." Peter directed his voice still sounding ticked off.

Jones and Diana nodded as they began jogging out of sight in the direction Peter had sent them.

The first thing Peter noticed was the painting. A devastating wave of disappointment and shock swept over him as he picked it up. As far as he could tell it was the original piece but why was it lying so carelessly on the ground?

Neal would never throw a piece of art on the ground like this!

That was when Peter looked over and saw the younger man. _Jesus_, he swore as he darted across the few yards that separated him from his partner. The younger man's body was broken and Peter could tell that breathing was hurting his friend. _Neal what the hell happened to you_?

He guiltily remembered how angry he had been at the reformed con artist earlier that evening.

There was a harsh cough and then a small, "Yy-ou…. F-o-und m….e" from the man in front of him.

* * *

Neal had known all along that Peter would find him. The agent always did after all. Once he had banished that doubting voice he had used that knowledge to keep himself from slipping into the darkness.

But Peter blamed him for something. Probably for 'stealing' that painting. Neal had seen the look of pure rage and betrayal flash across the agent's face while he had stared at the painting and it hurt.

"D—id—n't do…." He stopped and gasped for breath as another wave of pain crashed through his system. "it." Neal finished the sentence determinedly. He had to make sure that Peter knew he was innocent.

He could see the look of shock and guiltiness in Peter's eyes and he wished that he could make things right.

Neal saw Peter's hands reaching for his midsection and widened his eyes pleadingly, begging Peter not to do it. But the agent did it anyways. Ran his hands along the broken ribs before pressing down on the bleeding knife injury.

Pain screamed through Neal's system and the younger man cried out roughly as his eyes squeezed shut while he tried to wriggle out from under the pressure. "Ddon't." He begged as more tears of pain trailed down his face. "ppl-ease."

* * *

Peter closed his own eyes for a brief moment before skimming his hands over Neal's ribcage, dreading what he would find. From what he could tell every single rib was broken.

His own heart broke when he heard Neal begging him to stop. But if he stopped putting pressure on the injury Neal would die. Peter had believed the kid when he had said he didn't do anything. He could hear the rasping breaths as his best friend fought to breath correctly and felt the muscles under his hand tense whenever pain would shoot through Neal's system.

Then those baby-blues fluttered shut and Peter realized that Neal was giving in.

* * *

Just don't give up  
I'm workin' it out  
Please don't give in  
I won't let you down  
It messed me up, need a second to breathe  
Just keep coming around  
Hey, whataya want from me  
(whataya want from me)  
Whataya want from me  
whataya want from me

* * *

"Neal!" Peter screamed his partner's name hoping the noise would startle the younger man.

Nothing.

"Damn it Neal come on!" _Please kiddo_. "Open your eyes Neal."

Still no response.

Peter pressed down harder on the injury, eliciting a small whimper from his partner and the blue eyes shot open. The look of overwhelming fear and pain that the eyes expressed tore at Peter's heart.

When Neal recognized him, Peter could _feel_ the kid relax.

"Stay with me kid, just a little longer."

* * *

_**Author's Note: Well there you go! Thank you for the wonderful package of motivation that you sent me in my plea for motivation in the story Broken Glass**_** _I really do appreciate it and well, this was the result._**

**_Ahhh, poor Peter. I couldn't resist sending him on an emotional roller coaster so he had a wonderful thrill ride in the amuesment park I made just for him =)_**

**_Please review guys, as you can tell it really does make me want to deliver better and faster for you!_**


	5. Just Keep Breathing Kid

_**Author's Note: Hiya guys! I would like to apologize if I haven't answered your reviews yet be it in this story or any of the other stories and I just wanted to let you know that I will eventually be able to have a chance! Don't worry, this chapter does have plenty of whumpage for all so enjoy!**_

**_Neal: Enjoy? You promised that I was done with the whumpage!_**

**_Me: Did I? I don't remember saying anthing of the sort!_**

**_Neal: Do you want me to attack your computer?_**

**_Me: You're not a violent person Neal, there's no way you would attack my PC_**

**_Neal: Maybe I wouldn't but I'm sure Mozzie would love to. You know how he like a challenge._**

**_Me: He only likes them if he wins. That's why I'm safe from him too. Now go eat your cookie and be quiet like a good little con_**

**_Neal: I'm not a pet._**

**_Me: Says you..._**

* * *

The sterile white walls and the indifferent atmosphere of the waiting room was pressing in on Peter Burke from all angles. He held his head in his hands as he waited impatiently for any news on his friend. Peter was exhausted, seven hours had passed since Neal had been admitted into the hospital and those seven hours had felt like seven years.

He rubbed a hand over his face as he blinked slowly. He had called El and told her what had happened but she was out of town and wouldn't be able to fly back in until tomorrow.

* * *

**_~~~Flashback~~~_**

"_Stay with me kid, just a little longer." Peter begged as he felt Neal's body sag against him. He could feel Neal nod and gently mussed the younger man's hair. There was a weak protest from Neal and Peter smirked._

_Trust Caffrey to be more concerned about his hair than the fact that he was slowly dying. The sound of heavy footsteps came closer from the other side of the van and Peter tensed automatically. His free hand flew to where his gun was holstered just in case the approaching person was not a friendly._

_Burke sighed in relief when he recognized Jones and he called out to the other agent. _

"_Jones!"_

_The other man looked around in confusion and Peter called his name again. This time Jones saw him and his face paled dramatically as he approached the pair. "Is he…" Jones' voice cracked not wanting to finish the sentence._

"_No. He's still alive, but I need you to call 911 for me." Peter replied as he mussed Neal's hair again. This time there wasn't any protestation at all and Peter frowned. He saw Jones scowl at the cell phone and looked up at him worriedly. "Jones, what's wrong?"_

"_I…I can't get any signal." Jones' voice was shaky._

"_Try moving to somewhere else."_

* * *

_Jones nodded and moved about a block over. Still no luck. _

_"Damn it!" He swore before jogging back to his leader and fallen consultant._

_"Still can't get a signal." He announced, dreading Peter's reaction._

_The older agent didn't say anything except an encouragement to Neal and sounded a bit out of breath. Jones looked at them for the first time since he had returned and he felt the cold hard grip of panic squeezing his heart._

_Peter was performing CPR on Caffrey which meant…_

_Neal wasn't breathing._

* * *

_Peter had watched Jones leave with a sick knot of dread twisting in his stomach. "Neal?" He called the consultant's name again as he stroked the younger man's jaw line in an attempt to rouse him. When there wasn't a response, Peter moved his hand down to feel the younger man's pulse. His heart skipped faster as if it were attempting to make up for the lack of Neal's heart beating. As if somehow his heart would be able to keep the consultant alive while the other man's heart beat sluggishly, moving slower and slower…_

_He lowered Neal to the ground as carefully as possible and listened/felt for Neal's breathing, cursing when he couldn't detect any. "You're not getting rid of me that easily Caffrey!" Peter growled as he tilted the younger man's head back._

_Then he started performing CPR, wincing because he knew that all of Neal's ribs were already broken and that he was probably causing even more damage. :Come on Neal, don't do this to me: Peter pleaded mentally as he blew another breath of air into his best friend's lungs. It was about that time when he heard Jones return. _

"_Still can't get a signal." Peter cursed when he heard Jones tell him that. He was afraid to move Neal, not knowing how much more damage they would cause or how much more Neal's system could take.  
_

_After almost five minutes of CPR treatment, Neal finally started breathing on his own. Peter rocked back on his heels and looked around._

"_Where's Diana?"_

_Jones looked around, the confusion on his face evident. "What do you mean? She was right behind me on the way back!"_

_Peter groaned and briefly wondered what his team had done to deserve the stuff that they were going through. "Go to where you last saw her and start looking; and Jones, be careful." _

_Jones nodded and raced off in the direction he had originally come from._

_Peter looked down at his partner and knew that he was going to have to move him. They needed to get Neal to the hospital as soon as possible but the lead agent didn't want to ditch Diana._

_The man cradled in his arms twitched slightly and Neal slapped the ground with a clenched fist, his body tense. Peter mussed Neal's hair again and then rubbed the consultant's shoulders gently in a manner he hoped was comforting. Damn, I'm so bad at this emotional stuff._

"_P-te" _

_Peter almost jumped in surprise but smiled in relief when he heard the sound of Neal's voice before wincing at how weak it sounded. "Yeah buddy?"_

"_Wre's my 'dora?" _

_Peter mentally translated the slurred speech into, "Where's my fedora?" The older agent snorted in disbelief at the thought of Neal being concerned about the location of his hat right __**now**__._

"_Uh, you left it at, umm… home." Peter answered making it sound like Neal should have known that._

"_Li-ar." _

_Damn it, nothing ever gets past that boy does it? Too damn smart for his own good, Peter ranted in his head as he tried to figure out how to tell Neal he didn't have the slightest clue as to the hat's whereabouts. _

"_Peteh?" Neal was starting to sound more coherent and the younger man shifted slightly. _

"_I think you left it somewhere." The agent replied trying his best to stall. Neal shot a reproachful, :No Duh: look at his mentor._

_Suddenly, Neal cried out and tried to double over so that he could curl up into a ball on his side but strong hands held him down. Neal squeezed his eyes shut and whimpered as he sought to get rid of the pain._

"_Easy Neal, just breathe." Peter soothed as his partner started gasping in shallow and quick breaths. He looked down and saw wide, panicked blue eyes looking up at him and swallowed thickly._

"_C-cc-ca—n't…br-ee-at-h" The consultant managed to choke out as he looked up at his partner. He could feel panic setting in and taking over him. _

_Peter gasped when he heard Neal tell him that he couldn't breathe. The agent quickly moved the younger man into a sitting position, ignoring the pained cry the movement evoked. It took a few minutes of coaching and support from Peter to help the ex-con artist breath normally again. _

"_Easy Neal, just take it easy buddy."_

_Peter continued to soothe his friend until Jones showed up with a battered Diana. The woman had an utterly pissed expression on her face that immediately turned to one of concern when she saw Neal._

"_Boss, where's the ambulance?" _

"_Can't call one to us from here. We're going to have to move him ourselves." Peter looked down at none-too-thrilled Caffrey as the younger man huffed a sigh of anticipation._

_Peter sat still for a long moment as he tried to figure out the best way to move Caffrey. He winced sympathetically; he knew that no matter how they chose to move the consultant it would hurt like hell._

"_Ok, Jones I want you and Diana to check the van. See if there is something we could turn into a makeshift stretcher."_

_The other two agents nodded and jogged over to the van and shifted through its contents quickly. Heads lowered and refusing to meet eye contact with the two men on the ground they told them that they had found nothing._

* * *

_Neal swallowed thickly and closed his eyes. He could hear Peter instructing the other agents and then a pair of hands slid under his shoulder blades. Neal tensed automatically and heard Peter telling him to relax. That this would hurt less if he relaxed. :You try relaxing when your like this: Neal retorted mentally. The consultant hissed as another pair of hands slid under the lower part of his back and his ribs moved uncomfortably. Then two hands grasped his legs and Neal heard Peter instructing the other agents some more but he couldn't understand what his friend was saying._

_A pure bolt of agony shot through his system and the felon did his best to choke back the scream that welled from deep within. He could feel arms supporting his head, heard Peter calling to him worriedly and the jarring motion of people walking. Neal kept his eyes squeezed shut as he sought to throw up barriers between his conscious mind and the pain that was assaulting it._

_He felt the upper half of his body lift and groaned as his ribs grated against each other and sighed in relief when he felt himself being lowered to the floor gently. He coughed weakly as something cool and wet trickled down his throat and swallowed reflexively. Neal could hear Peter encouraging him to keep swallowing, to keep drinking and did his best to obey._

_The sound of an engine starting reverberated through the interior of the large stake-out van. The floor vibrated and Neal grunted as the van went over some potholes. He coughed again this time because of something warm, wet and metallic tasting that trickled __**up**__ his throat and his brows furrowed in confusion. _

_Pain ripped through him as the coughing forced his body to curl in on himself. Neal found his chest constricting and heard an animal like whimper, his brain dimly realizing that the noise had come from him._

_Neal forced his eyes to open and found himself looking up at Peter. The older man wasn't looking at him, but at Diana. The young con artist realized that the agent was saying something but found himself unable to comprehend what he heard._

_There was a strange darkness growing along the edges of his vision and he tried to blink it back frantically. He knew what the darkness meant and he didn't want a single thing to do with it._

* * *

_Peter felt Neal convulse in his arms after the horrid coughing fit ended and he stopped talking to Diana in the middle of the sentence. The agent peered down at his partner in time to see the blue eyes flutter open and frowned at the glazed expression that took residence within them._

"_Neal?" Peter called the younger man's name and tried to sound as calm as possible. He failed miserably._

_There wasn't any response except for the brief flicker of confusion that flashed through the younger man's eyes. Peter felt a cold fist of dread squeeze his heart and he urged Jones to go even faster. He was desperate to get Neal to the hospital._

_The younger man gave another rattling cough and Peter knew that he must have caused more damage than he originally thought. Then the consultant's eyes drifted shut and Peter shook him as hard as he dared and called Neal's name loudly._

_Fifteen minutes later Jones pulled the van in front of the closest hospital they could find and Diana ran inside to get help. The paramedics came out and loaded Neal onto a stretcher before rushing him to the ER. _

_Peter could only watch as his best friend was wheeled frantically into the operating room and when he looked over he saw Jones and Diana staring in the same direction._

_All of them could only hope that the youngest member of their team would be able to pull through._

* * *

Peter stared down at his hands and winced when he saw that the skin was still stained a reddish color. He had done his best to wash Neal's blood off of his hands but the liquid had still managed to leave its mark.

He wished that El was sitting right next to him, holding his hand, reassuring him that everything would be ok.

But she was in a different state, a different city visiting her sick aunt. Peter rubbed his face for the twentieth time and dozed off.

Thirty minutes later a doctor came over to where Peter was sleeping and grinned. This was going to be too easy. Pulling out a needle, the man injected the contents of the syringe into Peter's system. The FBI agent shuddered, his body twitching as a low groan escaped his lips. The 'doctor' looked around quickly before dragging Peter out of the seat and out of sight….

* * *

_**Author's Notes: Oh, Peter... I did warn you fair and square but you decided to act like Neal so now you are going to have to "Cowboy Up" until you start behaving...**_

**_Yes El was present earlier in the story but now she is in another city... so yeah..._**

**_Please leave me more reviews!_**

**_Neal: Don't do it!_**

**_Me: Neal..._**

**_Neal: ~whimpers~ Fine, ~sigh~ review for her..._**


	6. Decisions To Be Made

_**Author's Note: Hiya guys! Here's an update for ya!**_

_**Neal: Is that a good thing or a bad thing?**_

_**Me: Depends.**_

_**Neal: On what?**_

_**Me: Ask Mozz.**_

_**Neal: MOZZ!**_

_**Mozzie: There's a reason as to why I've been keeping my head below the radar...**_

_**Peter: JUST SPIT IT OUT MOZZIE!**_

* * *

Elizabeth Burke frowned as she snapped her cell phone shut with a frown. Peter had called her two days ago to tell her that Neal had been found but was severely injured. Her plane had been delayed one day due to bad weather but when she had tried to contact her husband to tell him, he hadn't answered the phone or even returned her calls. She fiddled with the tags to her suitcase.

El didn't even have a clue as to how Neal was doing either. From what Peter had told her over the phone, things hadn't been looking very bright for the ex-con. She groaned quietly as she did her best to ignore the people around her. El wasn't in the mood for small talk and was trying to figure out who to call to come take her home. Her eyes lit up and a slow smile spread across her face.

"June…"

* * *

When Neal Caffrey opened his eyes for the first time in almost three days he found himself handcuffed and in the middle of a white room.

The young ex-con artist frowned in confusion as he tried to sort out what was going on. He turned his head to the side hoping to see Peter or El sitting next to him but neither one of them were occupying the seat by the bed. Instead, a small man in a black suit sat in the chair, he was staring coldly at the consultant and Neal swallowed nervously.

"What the hell were you thinking Caffrey?" The smaller man exploded as Neal turned his line of sight up to the ceiling. He really wasn't feeling up to this conversation right now. "You blew the mission and then decided that it _would be fun to steal a painting_ from the local museum.

"D-didn't steal an-anything." Neal rasped as he turned his eyes back in Blackney's direction.

"Come on Neal, don't make this any harder on Peter than it already is. We'd been telling him all along not to trust a _felon_ but he wouldn't listen to common sense." Blackney growled as he got up out of seat and moved closer to Neal.

The younger man shook his head in confusion. He couldn't remember much of anything except for pain, Peter's worried face above him and more pain. Then he remembered the painting that had been lying next to him in the alley way.

_Did I steal something and somehow forget_? Neal shook the thought away. If he stole something then he would be betraying Peter's faith in him. And that was the last thing that he wanted to do.

"Where…i-s Peter?" His voice was a croak as he struggled to speak through an extremely dry mouth. Talking hurt and being wrongfully accused hurt even more.

"He's staying away from you until the trial. And its Agent Burke to you, _criminal_."

Neal blinked in surprise before he rasped, "El?"

"She was so disgusted with you when she found out what you had done. We could hear her crying from the other room."

"We?"

"Well, Burke didn't have the balls to tell her that he had been wrong about you so I had my team tell her."

Neal felt his eyes drifting shut from exhaustion and gasped as he was shaken roughly, pain that had been previously almost non-existent flared to life.

"I wasn't done speaking _felon_."

"That insul's getting ol'" Neal slurred as his eyes started to close again. This time he felt something hit him in the stomach, hard. He cried out and tried to double over but the handcuffs that were bound around his wrists held him too tightly and kept him from being able to even sit up.

The monitors connected to Neal shrilled as the younger man's heart rate sped up and he dimly heard the sounds of someone pounding on the door. When Neal looked over at the place Blackney had previously been occupying there was another man there. Blackney had disappeared from sight.

* * *

"Dang Blackney, that was cutting it awfully close wasn't it?" The lookout asked as he kept pace with his boss.

"I know, but the prick deserved it."

"What are you going to do about Burke?"

"Oh, we will give the agent an option."

"Really? What kind of option?" The lookout asked giddily.

"He can choose to keep his wife with him, or to get rid of Caffrey somehow. For all I care he can dump the kid in a sewer and leave him there to die."

"Who's going to do the talking? He'll recognize you for sure."

"We'll leave the talking to James. In the mean time, get some rest you earned it."

"Thanks boss."

Blackney watched his associate disappear into the night and rubbed a hand over his face as he pondered over different possibilities. He knew that he _had_ to make Hughes believe that Neal had really stolen the painting. If Hughes believed him then the higher ups would more likely believe him as well.

* * *

June hummed thoughtfully as she took another batch of home-made chocolate-chip cookies out of the oven. El was munching on one of the cookies from the previous batch and was surprisingly quiet. June understood how the younger woman felt; she had been missing her own husband for quite a few years now.

"I'm sure Peter's just fine El." June reassured the woman with a knowing look in her eyes. "That man can get himself out of anything that he can get himself into and the same goes for Neal."

"How'd you?"

"Know what you were thinking about? I can see it in your eyes, they always have been very informative on what your current mood is."

Elizabeth grinned sheepishly and picked up another cookie. _June is going to make me fat by the time all of this is over_… she trailed off in her thoughts as she absentmindedly picked up another cookie. It was cookie number five.

"June you should stop making cookies. The more you make the more I eat. The more I eat the bigger I get." El joked teasingly and the older woman smile back at her in response.

"None sense, Neal has to be able to eat some real food while he's in there."

El flashed another quick grin before her face returned to a serious look. "Would you go with me to see him?"

"Of course."

* * *

Neal did a double take when he saw the man that had taken Blackney's place and grunted as the man hauled him up into a sitting position. The pounding on the door had been going on for almost ten minutes and the consultant was starting to get a headache.

He could hear Jones demanding for the other people to move out of the way and then the sound of a gun going off. The door flew open and a very pissed looking Diana was standing in the doorway, Jones right behind her.

The man quickly grabbed Neal and the young con artist felt something smooth and cold placed by his throat.

* * *

Peter Burke groaned quietly as he dragged his aching body into a sitting position. He blinked in confusion as he glanced around the room he was in. He was lying on a hard mattress and the room he was in was fairly large. There were bloodstains on the ground and Peter shuddered.

He didn't like what he was seeing and hoped that his own blood wouldn't be staining the ground. The door opened and a man walked into the room. The man was around the age of fifty and his hair was greased back. There was a slumped quality to his shoulders and the way he walked.

"Ahh, how are you doing Agent Burke?" The man asked.

"Where the hell am I?"

The man glared before flashing a smile. "That doesn't matter. What does matter is how you answer the following question. You have two options Burke. Your wife or your consultant, your choice."

"Choice for what?" Peter spat.

"Who would you rather spend your life with? I'll give you a few hours to think about it."

_Oh God, please don't ask me that_, Peter begged as his eyes implored the heavens beseechingly. _How am I supposed to choose? I love El but I love Neal too. In a different way obviously. Damn it, the kid's like a son to me and my whole life revolves the two of them._

He knew what Neal would want him to do, but that didn't mean he agreed.

* * *

_**Author's Note: Dun dun dun... double cliff hanger in this one guys! ~hides~**_

**_Please Review!_**

**_Neal: Noo! Don't re-_**

**_Me: ~pushes Neal into the random pool in my imagination~_**

**_Neal: ~sputters indignantly~ You just had to do that when I'm in this suit didn't you?_**

**_Me: Considering the fact that it's a white suit, yes I did!_**


	7. Amnesia

_**Author's Note: Hi guys! Sorry about the delay in updating! Blame school, since I've had to borrow Neal's intellect for my papers (1 a day in at least 4/7 of my classes) and other homework. I think I finally found something for him to do that he complains more about than solving mortgage fraud cases or doing paperwork...**_

_**Neal: Please do anything you want to me but not another Economics paper! I'm begging you!**_

_**Me: Agreed...**_

_**Neal: Oh crud, wait I ta-**_

_**Me: Too late Neal! ~~evil laugh~~**_

_**

* * *

**_

Jones and Diana stared as the man pressed the knife against Caffrey's throat. The ex-con was as white as a sheet and trembling with an understandable fear. Jones tightened his grip on the gun, forcing his face to stay impassive. He saw Diana shoot a look that could kill at the man by Neal and grinned secretly. If anyone knew what was best for them then they would never ever try to invoke Diana. At least not if their intent was to still be alive at the end of it.

The man simply snarled and Jones shot Diana a questioning look and when she nodded he licked his lower lip nervously. "Who are you working for?" Diana snapped at the man in a way of distracting him.

The man took the bait and his stance relaxed slightly. The new pose moved him a little further away from Caffrey and Jones took advantage of the moment. He fired twice, a bullet for each hand since he didn't want to kill the man.

Well _figuratively _he wanted to but he knew that he would lose his job…. Or would he?

The other man _had_ been holding their consultant hostage and that would make a very good case in court. If it went as far as court…

Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, Jones quickly moved forward and snapped cuffs around the man's wrists. He didn't bother to check and see that they weren't too tight. The man could suffer, it was after all better than the alternative that Jones had been considering.

Glancing over at Neal, Jones saw Diana talking to him with a softness Jones hadn't known that she possessed. At least not directed _at_ Caffrey, he revised after some consideration.

He didn't need to hear the heart rate monitor to know that Neal's heart was beating faster than it should be. _Hell, after that anyone's would be_…

* * *

The stereotype for old clubs had to have been based off of the one that rested in the middle of one of the ghettos of New York City. The smoky atmosphere held an air of danger and adventure. That and the combination of booze and whatever other alcohol imaginable combined made it so that there were often more that two brawls in one night.

A man dressed in a black trench coat and a black cowboy hat was seated slumped over at the bar. He was waiting for someone and was growing extremely impatient because that someone should have been there over an hour ago. A short man carrying a briefcase and dressed in a suit came over, pulled up a seat and sat down. "You ready for this?"

"Always." Was the terse reply that he got.

"Sorry for making you wait but I couldn't leave, things would look fishy."

"Understandable." Blackney could tell the man in the trench coat didn't give a damn as to why he had been late. "Do you have the money?" The voice was cold and professional.

"Yes." Blackney pushed the briefcase over to the assassin. The other man took it and walked outside; the agent knew that he had gone to count the money and decided to accompany him. All of the money was there; he had put it in there himself.

That was why he was shocked to find a gun level with his chest as soon as he stepped out of the door. "I don't like tricks." The rough voice growled angrily as the assassin prodded Blackney forward, towards an alley. Blackney moved forward reluctantly knowing that he was more than likely about to die. There was just one thing he needed to know before the trigger was pulled.

"What do you mean by tricks?"

The man snorted angrily and the sound reminded the agent of a charging bull. "I don't kill for Monopoly money Agent Blackney. You of all people should have known better than to pull **that **trick on me."

Blackney's eyes widened with realization… the last place he had been was the hospital…

The last thing the FBI agent ever uttered was, "DAMN YOU, Neal Caffrey!" as he lay bleeding in a lone alley way. His body would rot and the flesh would be slimy with the decomposing goo that bodies formed after death. It would be a long time before his body would be found.

* * *

Neal Caffrey smirked as he reached under the bed and pulled out a nice leather briefcase. "Wonder what's in this?" He asked with a mischievous innocence as he fingered the clasps on the case.

Diana glared at him with her hands on her hips. "Where on Earth did you get that Caffrey?"

_Crud she used my last name_, Neal realized and his eyes widened. "I might have 'allegedly' borrowed it from a visitor."

"Who owns it Caffrey?"

"Can I open it if I tell you?"

Diana rolled her eyes and seriously considered saying no, but she was curious about the contents as well. "Sure."

"Blackney's."

"WHAT!" Diana shrieked before lowering her voice. Leaning in she whispered, "So help me Caffrey if this doesn't…." The federal agent trailed off as the con artist started to fiddle with the clasps to the case. "What are you doing?"

"Finding out what's inside."

"Neal!"

"Diana."

Diana sighed and wondered briefly where Peter got the patience to deal with the younger man on an almost twenty-four hour basis. However she was intrigued as in to what the case held and couldn't help but lean in to watch as Neal opened it.

Neal whistled and raised an eyebrow. "What do you think he needed all of this for?"

Diana shook her head, bewildered at the sight in front of her. Thousands of hundred dollar bills were stacked inside the brief case and as far as she could tell… "They're authentic." Neal stated, as though he had been reading her mind.

The agent could only stare in a dumbfounded horror as an idea ran through her brain and just by looking at Neal she could tell that the younger man had already figured out what was going on before Blackney had even entered his hospital room…

* * *

Peter Burke stared listlessly at the wall in front of him. The brown eyes were dull and it looked as though the agent was dead. For all intents and purposes he wished he was, if only he wasn't being forced to do something horrible to one of the people that was a part of his family. He had stayed up for the better part of the night, pacing the cell and beating at the wall with a helpless rage.

The door opened with a creak and Peter refused to acknowledge the sound. Someone kneeled down beside him and cut away the sleeve to his jacket with a knife. Then a sudden and brief flash of pain startled him causing the agent to jerk.

Looking over, Peter saw a syringe emptying its contents into his arm and his eyes widened in horror. _What the hell_? Was the only thing that the fed had time to think before he slipped unconscious.

The two men dumped the body of a federal agent inside the remains of an old shrimp factory/farm that had been shut down quite a few years ago. The building was rusted and broken with various hazardous objects still hanging around the place. No one had set foot on these grounds in years and the two felons were fairly confident that the man wouldn't be found any time soon.

* * *

Neal looked around at the circle of faces that belonged to the people gathered around in a circle. Hughes, El, Ruiz, Jones, Diana and a few agents that Neal didn't really know where watching him expectantly as though they expected him to conjure Peter out of thin air.

"Blackney was behind this." Neal told them as he made a circular motion with his hands. "All of this, the mission gone bad, the forgery of the painting done in my style, what happened to me, and more importantly Peter's disappearance."

"Still doesn't explain how you got a case full of money, _Caffrey_." Ruiz sneered as he glared at the con.

Hughes raised an eyebrow in the agent's direction and fixed him with a glare that told Ruiz that he had better keep his mouth shut and his ass in line.

"I'm getting to that your royal hiney," Neal sniggered before continuing with the information that he needed to tell them. "It's obvious that Blackney never really liked me but that's not what tipped me off about what really happened. I remembered him giving me something that looked like some kind of knife before the mission started. The idiots left it on me after one of their… ah…" Neal fumbled for the right words not wanting to sound like a spoiled brat. "friendly chats and I took the opportunity to examine it more closely. It was a tracking device and I had seen the computer that tracked it with the men that were… you know…"

"No we don't know Neal so quit trying to think up lies and tell us the truth." Ruiz spat.

Hughes motioned to Jones with an angry wave of his hand and the younger man smiled broadly as he forcefully removed Ruiz from the room.

Neal's eyes were lit up in amusement before turning serious again as he continued. "So that was when I knew that it had all been a set up. I don't really remember much of anything after they put me in the alley. Just a sense of being alone, and I think…I think I was scared…" Neal mumbled the last part as he fiddled with his blanket. "Then when I woke up and Blackney started reprimanding me I noticed that he had brought the brief case with him just like I thought he would. I didn't know that Peter was missing though, honest. He moved closer to me in order to keep me from falling asleep and that was when I made the switch, Blackney never noticed…"

Neal watched the others intently and yawned. Now that his adrenaline rush was wearing off, the exhaustion was slamming into his system like a train hitting a car in the middle of the tracks. He heard Hughes say something but didn't understand exactly what the older man was saying as he drifted off….

* * *

The federal agent came too with a low groan as he opened his eyes and looked around in a stunned amazement. The man had never been in a place like this before... at least he didn't think that had been...

Looking down the man saw the suit that he was dressed in and frowned when he saw that one of the sleeves was torn. He didn't have a clue as to who he was or why he was here. His brain was surprisingly blank and a barrier flew up around the memories he was seeking, blocking him from the vital information that he needed. The man needed to know who he was after all, what the hell was he supposed to say when people introduced themselves to him? If he ignored them he would look like an arrogant SOB but if he told them that he couldn't remember anything...

That could be dangerous. For all he knew the mafia could be after him and tipping someone off about his cluelessness would only make things turn for the worse. He felt something bulky in his pocket as he felt inside of his jacket. It was a wallet...

Curiousity flooded through him as he opened it, knowing that his name should be in the wallet. _Peter Burke_.

"Peter Burke." The man repeated out loud, deciding that he liked the way the name sounded

_Well, where the hell was here_? He asked himself as he attempted to discern his location. He saw large wheels and rusted stairs. The building he was in was clearly abandoned and had been for quite some time.

He was scared and felt horribly exposed as he curled up into a miserable ball under one of the staircases and drifted off into an uneasy sleep.

* * *

**_Author's Note: Hehe, see Peter I warned you! I told you to behave and you didn't so now you my friend are getting whumped. Hmmm... Blackney is dead and there is unknown assassin running rampant on the streets... Neal managed to orchestrate a con from within his hospital bed, and Ruiz got told... I apologize for the lack of length in this chapter but I hope the twists that I threw at you compensate at least a little bit! Please be kind and leave me a review. I love reviews. Reviews are my only source of nourishment. They are wonderfully tasty, addictive..._**

**_Neal: I think they get the point Serinidia. And I guess I owe you an apology for not believing that you would be able to write a single chapter in this fic without putting me through some sort of whumpage... So for once I agree. PLEASE leave her a review!_**

**_Me: ~~hugs Neal~~ See, you can be sweet!_**

**_Neal: ~~backs up and holds hands up in a surrendering yet defensive postition~ I think you've completely lost it. Crap that means I'm going to have to write that art history app for you aren't I?_**

**_Me: You should enjoy that one, just make sure its interesting..._**

**_Neal: Will do..._**


	8. Mood Swings and Peter Don't Mix Well

**_Author's Notes: Ok guys here's the deal: 1) Peter is going to be ooc in this chapter so this is my warning to you. 2) No bashing me for it =)_**

**_Neal: You deserve to be bashed for once_**

**_Peter: I second that notion!_**

**_Me: ~~Brandishes computer in a threatening manner~~ Now boys, I'm the one with the ability to type not you..._**

**_Peter: So?_**

**_Me: I would watch what you're saying I were you dearie._**

**_Peter: Dearie?_**

**_Neal: ~~nudges Peter~~ She means Peter so be shush._**

**_Peter: Did you just shush me?_**

**_Neal: Yes, yes I did now shush._**

* * *

The man in the old shrimp factory shivered and he pulled the jacket that he was wearing closer to his body as his breath misted in front of him. How the hell had it gotten so cold? Just minutes ago it had felt like he was roasting alive. With a small whimper the man surged to his feet, staggered and then righted himself. He shivered again but doggedly pushed himself forward, releasing the banister that he had been clenching with his hands for support.

His movements were painful and jerky. They caused flares of pain to shoot through his body and the man gasped, realizing that it was probably from the way he had slept last night. Which reminded him that he didn't have a clue as to where he was. Something vibrated in his pocket and he jumped in surprise. His hands were fumbling as he took the offending _thing_ out of his pocket. Whatever the _thing_ had been doing had stopped. There was a name on the screen but Peter didn't recognize it. _Elizabeth_. Who the heck was that? A lover? A co-worker? Or was she just a friend?

A frown flickered over his face and his eyes squinted in concentration. Suddenly there was a loud _buzzing _noise and he dropped the accursed thing in his hand, watching with fascination as it hit the ground with a resounding crack. What the heck was that thing?

Inching forward cautiously, Peter poked at the strange rectangular device with an air of apprehension. When nothing happened Peter picked it up and fiddled with the front of it. (At least he assumed it was the front) The front flipped and Peter almost dropped it again, a quizzical frown gracing his face. The words 'Neal Caffrey' flashed on the screen and Peter had one of those famous "aha" moments.

For some reason the name Neal Caffrey was ringing some serious bells in his head.

_Elusive con man. Escaped one too many times. Must find him and throw his ass in jail. _

_But why? What had the young man ever done to him? _

_It's my job that's why you idiot._

_I'm not an idiot thank you very much._

_Good, now that we've established that I would suggest getting your butt in gear. We do have things to get done. _Peter looked at the ground through glassy eyes as he battled through the conflicting thoughts in an effort to find an anchor. Why, for Pete's sake, did that other voice sound like someone else? Someone with a silky smooth voice…

_Because I'm not you._ The voice answered the question without hesitation.

_Neal?_

_Good, you do remember simple things. I was getting worried._

Peter looked up and found himself looking into the concerned blue eyes of Neal Caffrey.

_I should just toss your butt in jail Caffrey. _

_I thought we already established this. Just like I've told you time and time again that the "I'm going to toss you in jail" card is getting old._

_What the blazes do you mean by that?_

_The younger man rolled his eyes with exasperation and Peter considered strangling him._

_We're partners remember?_

_No and I'm not stupid Caffrey. You're not slipping away from me this time._

_What is that supposed to mean Petey?_

_Peter growled at the nickname. _

_It's Agent Burke to you._

_A flash of hurt flickered through the brilliant blue eyes._

_Peter this game you're playing isn't funny._

_It is to me._

_Come on, if you want me… come and get me. _

_The con artist spun around on his heels, reminding Peter of a panther. Peter growled as he realized that Neal was escaping again._

Peter forced himself to keep moving forward and sought to catch up to the dark haired and suave young man that was in front of him. "Caffrey!"

* * *

Neal Caffrey sighed in frustration as he hit the redial button on his cell phone. The young man was leaning weakly against the side of a building, eyes shifting around nervously as he let out a painful exhale. He had force Mozzie to break him out of the hospital and as a result was still out of his tracker.

_Come on Peter, answer the phone_, he willed as he heard the tone on the other end. The building he was leaning against was old and run down. There was still the faint smell of sea-food that hung in the air around it.

Neal heard an exclamation of surprise from inside the building and that was all it took for the ex-con artist to know that his friend was inside of the old shrimp factory. Pushing himself away from the wall, Neal stumbled forward. His ribs protested the movement and his legs trembled. Before he knew it, Neal was on all fours and with a small whimper he forced himself to try to get back onto his feet.

"Peter?" He called his partner's name loudly in an attempt to locate the older man. When there was no reply adrenaline helped Neal surge to his feet. Breathing labored, the young man found himself at the doorway. Eyes adjusting to the darkness, Neal couldn't see Peter until the man was right in front of him.

The agent was wearing a mask of rage, determination and disgust. Neal blanched slightly and found himself stepping back. "Peter?" He asked softly unsure of what to do as the agent continued to stalk towards him.

"I already told you its Agent Burke to you Caffrey!" The older man snarled angrily.

_What the hell_? Neal was confused. Had he done something wrong? _Don't answer that_, he told himself as the other voice was about to answer back sarcastically. He wasn't prepared for the agent's next action though and gasped as he was roughly shoved against a wall. His ribs screamed a protest and Neal found it getting hard to breathe. "P-peh- Peter?"

The agent snarled angrily again as he slammed against the younger man again screaming an, "This is all your fault Caffrey!"

Neal looked away from the man he considered to be his father-figure and doubled over as pain exploded from the area in his stomach. If he had only told Peter sooner, then the agent would never have been captured and had who knows what done to him. "I'm sorry." He whimpered softly as he felt his back connect with the wall yet again.

"Turn around."

Neal shot his friend a hurt and confused look but knew better than to resist. He hissed sharply as his hands were roughly cuffed. When the agent went to spin him around, Neal felt the world wobble around him and then everything was lights out.

* * *

Peter cussed when the younger man slumped over and hauled Caffrey to his feet, dragging the con artist behind him. Why had Caffrey been treating him like they were friends?

They were anything but friends, they were enemies.

But then again, why had a part of him broken when he had heard the other man whimper? He shook his head in an attempt to clear it as he continued to drag the young man into the building. From the looks of the clouds it seemed like it was about to rain and he didn't feel like hearing the other man's complaints about being wet.

Wait, how did he know that he _would_ complain?

That doesn't matter, he told himself sternly as he took out a second pair of hand cuffs. He fastened one end on the chain in between the two cuffs that were already fastened on Caffrey's wrists. A part of him was screaming that this was wrong, that he and the con artist were on the same side of the law now.

But how was that possible?

_Caffrey walking out of prison with him. A music box. A little guy that told Peter to call him Haversham but really went by the name of Mozzie. A girl that he considered to be a witch. A plane blowing up and the stricken expression that adorned Neal's face. Helping the younger man through the grieving process. Neal being accused of running, Blackney's smug face leering at him in Hughes' office. Finding Neal beaten and almost dead in the middle of alleyway. Having to do CPR on the man he considered to be his best friend. A needle…_

With a gasp similar to one of a man that had been drowning and was just taking his first breath of air, Peter looked down at the unconscious figure in front of him. With a horrified expression on his face, Peter quickly unfettered the younger man and scowled as he remembered that the younger man should still be in the hospital.

"I'm sorry Neal…" Peter sighed as he cradled his partner. He knew that there were more people in his team but he didn't have a clue as to who they were or what they looked like. The only thing that was anchoring him to who he really was, was Neal Caffrey. Ironic really, that an ex-con was the only thing that kept Peter's sanity intact…

* * *

**_Author's Note: See, I told you that Peter would be out of character in this chapter. I tried to make it seem like he was starting to drift back into his real personality at the end of the chapter but at the same time show that he still didn't know squat. Just to clarify some things: Peter does not remember El, Jones, Diana and anyone else not mentioned in his two "aha" moments. This is sad, I know (poor El). I started working on chapter 7 for Broken Glass today but I wasn't getting anywhere when this grand idea for the chapter in this story popped into my head so yeah... Yuppers, I threw another twist at you guys in this story! Yeesh, this is what, the third twist? I don't remember I just know that its more than two that I've thrown into the plot line. Don't you love how the bored mind works?_**

**_Neal: No, I don't_**

**_Me: I wasn't asking you._**

**_Peter: I should throw you in jail Serinidia_**

**_Me: Oh well, I guess I'll just eat this delicious deviled ham sandwich myself. They are my favorite after all. (that is true)_**

**_Peter: NOOOO! Please, I'll be nice just. don't. eat. the. sandwich. _**

**_Me: Alright alright, here you go. ~gives Peter the sandwich~_**

**_Neal: ~puppy dog eyes~ What about me?_**

**_Me: ~holds up a platter full of cookies so large that Peter drops his sandwich and Neal's eyes bug out~ You mean these?_**

**_Neal: ~nods enthusiastically~_**

**_Me: Here you go Neal. ~hands cookies to a very happy Neal Caffrey and watches a jealous Peter Burke out of the corner of my eye~_**

**_Please leave me a review! I really do enjoy them =)_**


	9. A Felon's Version of Finders Keepers

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_**Author's Note: Sorry for the wait guys! I really am! Have any of you ever conned someone into or out of something? Let me know in your review! MaraudingSnitch already knows my evil little secret but isn't allowed to share it with you guys! If enough of you respond to the question above I'll tell you the con that I successfully pulled on 26 people simultaneously…**_

_**Neal: You make a good student.**_

_**Peter: ~whacks Neal on the back of the head~**_

_**Neal: Ow! What was that for?**_

_**Peter: Corrupting Serinidia's mind.**_

_**Neal: I did no such thing! I simply helped her discover her true calling! Right Ser?**_

_**Me: ~eyeballs a livid Peter~ Umm… **_

_**

* * *

**_

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Peter Burke pulled the trembling form of his consultant closer to his chest, unaware of the fact that he was using Neal like a child would use their teddy-bear. The younger man was the only thing that linked him to who he really was and was also the only thing he could really remember. All of his re-obtained memories were composed of his interactions with Neal Caffrey and the rest of the people that showed up in the memories didn't have distinct faces or names.

He did remember a dog though. A big yellow dog that had been scolded for eating quiche and from what Peter remembered it had been a whole lot of quiche. He couldn't remember the dog's name though and he pounded the ground with a fist in frustration. The soothing pattering of the rain outside washed away the frustration and the agent scooted out from under his partner before standing up.

Peter walked out of the shrimp factory and felt something wet nail him right in between the eyes. What the heck was that? More wet things pelted him relentlessly and he looked around wildly in confusion. It didn't hurt so he didn't think it was harmful, but it wasn't enjoyable either.

With a soft sigh of confusion, Peter headed back inside. He had made it half way to his destination when something whacked into the back of his head with surprising force. The agent crumpled without a sound…

* * *

The first thing Neal Caffrey realized when he woke up was that he was alone. Peter was nowhere in sight and the younger man shot up, a feeling of panic spreading out from his core. He hadn't come all this way to retrieve his partner to go back empty handed!

Pain ricocheted from his ribs and the young man fell back with a gasp. Neal pushed back the approaching darkness furiously as he struggled to his feet. The pain made him feel like he was about to pass out again and he fought against that urgently. "Peter?"

When there was no response Neal knew that he would have to track the older man down. Funny he snorted without much amusement for once I'm tracking you instead of the other way around. Betcha that I'll catch you the first time I try though. With a small grimace, the young con artist stepped forward. He could tell from the position of the moon that over a day had passed since the 'incident' with Peter. Neal had woken up for brief periods of time over the course of the past day and that was how he knew for sure that a day had passed.

Peter's trail wasn't hard to follow and Neal already feeling of apprehension turned to worry when he saw blood. Peter? Stumbling, Neal leaned a weary hand against a tree in order to right himself with a small groan. He knew that he wouldn't be able to go much further and that it was a miracle that he'd already traveled the two miles he had already come. The breath was rasping in his throat when he noticed that there was a long streak of blood against one of the trees to his right. It looked like a person had been bleeding and slid down the tree into a sitting position.

The color drained out of Neal's face as the young man started forward frantically. He was positive that Peter was hurt but how was the one thing Neal didn't know. And why had Peter run?

Thirty minutes later, Neal came to a wheezing stop. His body refused to co-operate anymore and was weakening; he could go no further. At least not without some rest first. The rain was plastering his clothes to his body and Neal shivered. The young man looked around curiously and squinted when he saw a blob in the distance. A blob that looked vaguely familiar. With a small gasp of surprise Neal shot up a little too quickly and spiraled into the grips of unconsciousness.

It was nighttime by the time Neal came back to his senses and at first he was confused. Then he remembered the blob and pushed himself into a sitting position gingerly. From the weak amount of moonlight that filtered through the clouds in erratic flashes, Neal could tell that the blob was still there. Clenching his jaw, Neal got up and staggered to the edge of the stream bank. The ex-con artist eyed the water dubiously. From what he could tell, the current was weak here but Neal didn't know what the undertow would be like. Not to mention that walking through water would have been difficult enough for him because of the state his body was in.

Swallowing thickly, Neal stepped into the stream gasping as the icy cold water lapped at his lower legs. Eyes squinted at his destination; Neal forced himself to keep going, praying that the blob wasn't Peter.

Halfway across the broad stream the current grew stronger, the water determined to bowl the young man over. Lips blue and teeth chattering because of the icy cold of the water, Neal braced himself with numbed legs. After what seemed like a life-time Neal reached the opposite shore. The young man was exhausted and his body trembled with a mix of weariness, pain and cold. The blob was man's body and when Neal rolled the body over gently, he was relieved to see that it wasn't Peter. But if it wasn't Peter then why was the agent's gun gripped in the stone-cold grasp of the man's right hand?

With a groan of dismay Neal sank back and slid away from the body and retched. The dry heaving was the worst. The taste could be washed away but the pain caused by the contracting of his muscles only made the pain worse. Weary eyes followed the set of footprints that led away from the man's body.

The con man didn't have the energy to get up, and blue eyes fluttered shut as Neal slumped against the tree.

* * *

Diana was furious. She paced around the formerly occupied hospital bed for what had to be the fiftieth time that afternoon. Neal had disappeared a little over a day ago and the agent was worried.

The con man had been seriously injured and needed to be in the empty bed that she was now staring at. Her own body still ached from the ungraceful spill she had taken down a flight of stairs on the day that they had found a half-dead Neal in the alley. Hell, the kid had been more than half-dead, he'd been the 5 minutes until dead kind of dead.

She was well aware of the fact that Neal had a good heart and his intentions were always meant to help but sometimes he could be so stupid. For someone with an IQ of 200 the kid had made some incredibly idiotic decisions. This one topped the list though. A few days ago Neal had been dying and now he decided that he could just go gallivanting off like nothing was wrong?

Diana shook her head muttering a, "What are you doing?"

Jones looked up from the other side of the room, his brows drawn together in confusion over the question. "Looking for clues."

"I wasn't talking to you." Diana snapped moodily, not wanting to openly show her concern for Neal. She briefly wondered if her girlfriend was home yet before returning to the task at hand.

A hurt look flashed across Jones' expressive face and Diana sighed. "I'm sorry Jones, I didn't mean to snap I'm just…"

"Coffee anyone?" A welcome and familiar voice asked sweetly from the doorway. Diana and Jones both looked up and flashed broad smiles as they headed over to the familiar figure.

"Thanks El." Jones replied with a contented sigh as he sipped at the mug's contents.

Elizabeth Burke simply nodded and looked around the room curiously. She accepted Diana's thanks as well before stepping into the room. The sheets on the bed were still rumpled and held the imprint of someone's body and a soft smile graced her lips. El knew that it was Neal's imprint and she briefly connected the bed to both her heart and Peter's and how the younger man had imprinted on them.

Caffrey was such an important presence in their day-to-day lives now and she wondered desperately where he was. Missing Peter was bad enough, but at least she had been able to visit the younger man while he was in the hospital. Even though Neal had been sleeping for most of the time El had gone to see him, she had still enjoyed his company. But now he had robbed his company from her. Touching the abandoned bed gently, El whispered something to the heavens before smiling at the other two agents and leaving.

_If I were Neal, where would_ _______I have gone_? She asked herself_____. ________Duh, where else do you think he went_ she chastised as she realized what a stupid question that had been. _I would go to find Peter and bring him home._

______________

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* * *

_

The 'dead' man on the ground grinned when he saw his target lose his battle against exhaustion and rolled to his feet. He pulled out his Sais and crept over to the prone young man in front of him.

As an assassin, the man had been looking forward to actually having to battle with his victim before actually killing him. The middle-aged man loved having a worthy opponent but one look at the youth in front of him told the assassin that his victim didn't have a violent bone in his body.

The young man in front of him was clean cut and decidedly good looking. It was a shame to have to kill an object so beautiful…

But then again, the man in question did know where the money was… so maybe he wouldn't have to die… yet.

With a face like that and a body that matched it would certainly fetch a pretty penny in the black market. A smirk settled over the middle-aged felon's lips as he hefted his newly found possession on his back. There was a grunt of pain from the younger man's lips but the assassin ignored it.

After all, the younger man would be able to enjoy the presence of the agent he had so desperately been looking for…

After all, the major rule for someone with a life in crime was…

______

_Finders keepers, losers weepers_…

* * *

_**Author's Note: Uh-oh! The assassin has both of our boys now! Hopefully Jones and Diana will be able to figure out what's going on and fast! (Neal doesn't have Candy on). I almost broke my number 1 rule in this chapter guys… I almost used the word 'said'. I don't know if any of you have noticed this but I have never used that word in my fics. I think it's overused so I pretend it doesn't exist. =) Oh, check out my latest story, Falling! **_

_**Please leave me a review and remember to respond to the question in the first author's note! =) **_


	10. The Black Market:Getting Ready

_**Author's Notes: Wow! Your responses where awesome! Kudos to those of you who have pulled a con! ~coughs~ I didn't say that ~coughs~ Did you know that I was conned by a toy once and then unknowingly conned the company SwimWays into giving me another dolphin (robotic toy, same thing as the original)? Any ways that's not the con I wanted to share with you. Well, here it is my friends and I do think you'll catch the heavy irony in this!**_

_**In English we were asked to come up with an April Fools day prank. Ironically enough the teacher that read the following was the one that I chose to be my victim. She didn't see it coming even when the evidence was right in front of her. Here is what I wrote and did. (Too give her some credit this assignment was done a few months ahead of time)**_

_**If I were to pull a prank on April Fools day I would con my class into taking a test. I know it's not your typical prank but since it isn't stereotypical they'll never know what happened. It shouldn't be that hard; the teacher for the class in which I am contemplating pulling the prank on is constantly forgetting things. We take fill-in notes in that class so if I were to make my own notes for the entire chapter then I could use those as evidence. I plan on making a teacher's copy and slipping the copy into her class folder; thus making it seem like we had been given the notes. I would use my own copy to back up that evidence and have a few of my friends as support.**_

_**I would also copy the teacher's handwriting and put up that we have a test on (such and such) date. This will trick most of the class into thinking that we had been told about the test in advance. If all goes well then the test should be distributed and we should take it. I am fairly confident it will. I am looking forward to this, it should be interesting regardless of how it goes.**_

_**Turns out everything went as planned, the teacher thought that she really had assigned the test and made the notes. My friends backed me up with their own packets of notes and then we ended up taking the test. Needless to say my friends and I aced the test and everyone else failed… what an April Fools! **_

_**On with the story! Wait a sec, I need to put a warning up for this chapter so pay attention please: **_

_**1) Remember Neal is going to be posed as an item up for sale in the black market… its not to raunchy but I thought I should warn you, 2) Keep in mind that I don't write slash fics… Ok, now you guys can read away =)**_

_**

* * *

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Neal woke up to a pounding headache and squinted in confusion when he realized that he was leaning up against a wall instead of a tree. He cautiously moved his limbs and was relieved to find that none of them were broken. Next he slowly got to his feet and examined the room that he was in. There weren't any windows and he realized that he was in giant cage. _What the hell_?

The con artist winced as a searing pain shot through his head and sank back down into a sitting position. A wave of nausea shot through him and Neal groaned before swallowing the rising bile in his throat. He heard someone shift in the corner and squinted in the general direction of the sound. "P'ter?"

An answering grunt told the con artist that it was indeed the older agent and a frown line appeared in Caffrey's brow. Great, just peachy. The one person that had always caught him was trapped inside this… bird cage… with him.

Then again Peter wasn't exactly his normal self right now. Neal was drawn out of his thoughts when the agent across from him gave a hoarse cough. The younger man crawled over to his friend and winced when he saw the blood that decorated the once some-what nice suit. "Peter?" Neal called his friend's name again, his voice sounding a little bit stronger.

"Yeah?" Neal could tell that Peter was shivering slightly. Odd, he thought, it really wasn't all that cold in here. That meant…the older agent was going into shock.

Neal gently rolled Peter so that the older man was resting on his back and grimaced when he saw the nasty cut that ran through some of Peter's hair and on his cheek. So that meant the agent had a concussion. _Maybe that will knock some sense into him_, Neal smirked slightly and then grimaced at the pun. _Yep that was a bad one Caffrey_ he told himself as he gently began to clean the injury.

"Peter I need you to stay awake for me ok?"

"Don't want to." The older agent sounded like a petulant child.

"Peter…" Neal growled in warning as he helped the older man sit up.

"Five minutes?"

Neal shook his head.

"Four minutes?"

"No Peter. You're not sleeping." The con artist's voice sounded exasperated.

"Three minutes?"

"NO!"

"Oh, I know, how about two minutes?" Peter gazed up at Neal hopefully, thinking that he was a genius and had just solved an impossibly hard riddle.

"NO! And don't you even say-"

"One minute?"

There was a slapping noise as Neal did a face palm in frustration before answering with an annoyed, "No."

"Fifty-nine seconds?"

That was when Neal Caffrey knew that the time spent in this cell thing would pass by very slowly.

_Two Hours Later_

"How about now?"

"When are you going to stop asking?" A frazzled Neal cried out in exasperation.

"When you let me sleep."

"Do you think this is funny? Huh?" Neal was no longer addressing Peter, instead the younger man was glaring at the ceiling. "What is this some kind of karma joke, because if it is it isn't funny!"

"You two are quite amusing to listen too." A voice rasped from somewhere outside the cage.

Neal spun around in confusion before standing over Peter protectively. His body was tense with anticipation. "Who are you?" The con man demanded as he glared, eyes roving the darkness in an attempt to find his captor.

"Tssk tssk, we can't have you being so disrespectful Caffrey. My clients wouldn't like that."

"I don't-wait… your clients?"

"I thought they said you were smart."

"Apparently I'm not." Neal retorted as he still searched for his tormentor.

"Humph, that won't matter anyways, not where you're going. Won't matter for your buddy either since he won't be around to think anything whatsoever."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Neal growled angrily as he shook Peter, noticing that the older man had attempted to use the con artist's distraction as a chance to snooze.

"Come here boy."

Neal didn't move.

"NOW!" The man barked.

Neal flinched before saying, "I don't know where _here_ is smart one."

A light turned on and Neal reflexively lifted an arm to shield his eyes and looked down at Peter with concern as the older man groaned. Ignoring his orders, Neal bent down and gently adjusted his friend's position so that Peter was facing away from the light.

"Now you do so hurry up."

Neal nodded and stepped forward apprehensively. He didn't have a clue as to what he should expect. Someone opened up a door and pulled him out of the cage.

"Get him a bath, hair done, and a good wardrobe. He's going on in about an hour."

Neal looked around confused, _going on what_? The young man didn't have time to think about it as he was led out of the room into a fancy bathroom.

There was no shower curtain and Neal looked at the man that was apparently guarding him.

"Umm… the curtain's missing." He pointed out with a meaningful gesture.

"I know that. Now get in the shower and hurry up." The other man barked and Neal waited for him to turn around.

When the other man showed no signs of doing so Neal found himself flushing a bright red, "Could you at least turn around?"

"I'm not an idiot Caffrey. Get in the damn shower and bathe or I'll help you do it."

"No thanks." Neal responded quickly and with as much dignity as he could, took his shower.

After he had been humiliated in the shower, Neal was led to the salon area. The woman that did his hair looked like she killed pets for a living. Neal didn't attempt to strike up a conversation with her. Once the crabby old lady was done she handed him over to the clothing department. There he was measured and assessed. The people talked about him, noticing his perfections and pointing out his flaws. It made Neal feel like a horse in an auction.

Clothes were tailored to fit him and while Neal usually would have been delighted to have his clothes tailored he could only feel a sense of embarrassment and dread. These clothes weren't his style. His style was a fedora and a suit, and at night pajama bottoms.

These…outfits…showed too much for his liking.

When they had found an outfit they found satisfying, the fashion department gave him to his 'handler'. The man told him that he was to 'strut his stuff' and that if he didn't put up a good show then Peter would end up paying for it.

That was when Neal realized that he was about to be auctioned off in the black market. A part of him was screaming to make a break for it, to get out while he still could but the other part was telling him that if he did that then Peter would die. The young con-artist was torn but decided that Peter living would be worth the embarrassment he was about to go through.

As he walked out into the 'ring' the only thought running through his mind was, _some freakin' fantastic birthday this is_…

What had he done to deserve this?

* * *

Flashes of memories passed through Peter's mind as he lay in the darkness. He was aware of the sounds around him but couldn't keep his eyes open long enough to see where he was. The agent heard a slurred "P'ter?" and realized that Neal was with him.

Somewhere…

A scuffling sound told him that the younger man was moving over to him and then the familiar voice called his name again, sounding a little bit stronger this time.

"Yeah?" The words slipped past numbed lips weakly. Peter was shocked to hear how pathetic he sounded.

He heard Neal say something about staying awake and answered with a sulky, "Don't want too." Peter cringed inwardly when he realized that he sounded like a little kid.

The agent could hear the younger man say something else before an idea popped into Peter's head. What if he asked for just a few minutes of sleep? Surely that wouldn't hurt, right?

When his plea for five minutes was denied, Peter decided to try to whittle Neal's patience down to non-existent. Peter decided to give up once he reached the two second mark and could tell that the younger man was about to snap. He briefly wondered what Neal Caffrey would do if he was to be driven insane by incessant immaturity. It would serve the younger man right, he thought viciously, remembering all of the times Neal had driven him to the brink of insanity.

He felt more than saw the younger man standing over him and when he cracked his eyes open to see what was going on he was rewarded with the not-so-glamorous view of his criminal informant's butt. He quickly shut them again, knowing that he had just been scarred for life. Peter wished that he hadn't taken a look but then again curiosity killed the cat right?

Suddenly a bright light flooded the area and lit up his eyelids causing him to groan as his head protested the brightness violently. Gentle hands turned him away from the source of the light and Peter sighed in relief. Then he sensed the dynamic presence of Neal Caffrey move away from him and he panicked for a brief second before scolding himself.

What was he five?

Now there was nothing to stop him from letting his thoughts wander and Peter Burke allowed himself to slip into the dark depths of slumber.

* * *

The rotting body in the alleyway was only found because of its stench. It had been over a week since Blackney had been murdered and that entire time the FBI had been searching for its missing agent. The team that arrived at the site had to fight the gag reflex when the stench and sight of the decomposing flesh threatened to overwhelm them. When they did take a good look, they were surprised to see a brief case carelessly tossed down next to the body with monopoly money spread all around and on the victim.

It was especially disconcerting when they found _Neal Caffrey set this up_, written in blood in one of the dead agent's fist.

* * *

_**Author's Notes: Ummm… I know this isn't much of a birthday present Matt but I'll write a fluffy one for you soon. Think of it as belated…33 yrs old now! I need to remember that so I don't say the thirty-two year old anymore in my fics…**_

_**Neal: Humph, some birthday that was Serinidia. Why couldn't there be a shower curtain?**_

_**Me: I'm sorry?**_

_**Neal: ~glowers~**_

_**Me: Neal you still look adorable when you're pissed.**_

_**Neal: ~sighs~ I give up!**_

_**Anyways please leave me a review. **_

_**I hope this chapter wasn't too offensive for you guys, I tried too keep it as clean as possible and still stick to the storyline. Sooo, it seems like Neal can't get away from Blackney's hatred for him even when the guy is dead! Hmmm…**_


	11. Escape!

**_Author's Notes: Oh geesh, I am so sorry about the wait you guys! ~begs for mercy~ I had a humongous writer's block that I just couldn't shake off whenever I went to write this chapter and I went through at least thirty different versions of it all about this length before being somewhat happy with the results. I haven't forgotten about the other stories, I'll be starting the next chapter for Broken Glass tomorrow but don't get your hopes up for that story being updated tomorrow._**

**_Neal: grrrr… and yet I thought that my hiding in the closest finally worked!_**

**_Me: Neal, I told you a while ago that my imagination makes it so that door offers you no protection whatsoever. Yes, it took me longer to batter down this time but…._**

**_Neal: I know, I know you still were able to drag my fanny out and abuse it…._**

**_Me: Well, I wasn't going to put it that way but if that's the way you want to go with it…_**

**_Neal: ~horrified~ Serinidia! That is NOT what I meant when I said that!_******

**_Me: ~smirks~_**

* * *

"Anyone? Anyone? Going once, twice, SOLD to the little lady in the front for five million." The auctioneer's voice rang through the silent stadium like structure that was encircling the arena.

FBI consultant Neal Caffrey knew there was only one way he could keep himself from being collected by his 'new owner'. He had to piss off his handler to the point at which the other man would be unable to control his rage. If his handler couldn't control his rage it meant being beaten to a bloody pulp. Neal winced at the thought but he knew that it would be better than actually going with the woman.

Neal walked out of the ring tamely enough but as soon as he got behind the scenes he rammed his handler up against the wall and ran. His long legs ate up the distance between himself and a nearby door and he checked over his shoulder frequently. Dashing through the door, he took a chair and quickly jammed it under the knob in order to keep the handle from turning.

There were muffled curses and the sound of a body ramming the door angrily. Neal flashed a ghost of his trademark grin towards the door and pretended to pluck an invisible fedora off his head as he mock bowed.

His face turning serious once more, Neal sprinted up the steps, taking the stairs two at a time as he tried to remember where he and Peter had been held. The younger man knew that he could easily leave Peter behind and escape without too much trouble but he instantly rebelled against the idea. Sure, it was the sensible thing to do but it wasn't the way Neal Caffrey's honor code worked.

Neal flat out refused to leave his friend behind, scared about what might happen to Peter while he was out getting help. Things were already bad but Neal knew that without his being there to look after the older agent, Burke wouldn't stand a chance. There was no way he would be able to survive whatever the sick people that owned the place would put him through.

Heart thumping, Neal skidded out of the stairwell and sprinted down the hallway, counting room numbers as he passed them. The young man noticed that there were names taped on a laminated sheet of paper on every door. _That makes things easy,_ Neal thought relieved, _just find the door with my name on it so long as Peter's is there too_. But how many rooms were there?

Neal pushed the thought out of his mind as he searched each door frantically, well aware of the fact that the longer it took for him to find Peter the smaller the chance of escaping grew.

His lungs were burning by the time he found the room in question and his legs were shaking, threatening to collapse from underneath him as his ribs pounded a protestation. _Cowboy up Caffrey_, the thought echoed throughout the con's head and a small smile slipped onto his lips.

"Peter?"

There was no response and Neal rushed over to the cage, picking up a bobby-pin like object on the way over. The agent was slumped over in the same exact spot as Neal had left him. _So the little devil went to sleep the second I left_. He would have to have a talk to Peter about that later. Ironic really, since it was usually a talk Peter would lecture him about for hours on end.

Picking the lock turned out to be easier than Neal expected and he set to work on unlocking Peter's manacles, eyes flickering about nervously as he did so. "Peter!" When that failed to rouse the agent Neal slapped him on his face, gently at first and then harder when his friend failed to respond.

The younger man hadn't noticed that he was holding his breath until he released it right after there was a small, "Go away," from Peter. Neal grinned as he undid the last manacle with a satisfying _clink_.

"Uh-huh, you're not getting rid of me that easily Peter."

There was an answering groan of dismay from the agent and Neal grinned wickedly. "Don't you remember that you 'own' me for another two and a half years?"

"Shaddup Caffrey."

"That's another thing that is highly unlikely to happen."

"I don't care, just be quiet."

"Someone's grouchy."

"Am not."

Neal raised an eyebrow and muttered a sarcastic, "whatever floats your boat," under his breath. Then raising his voice and tugging on Peter's arm Neal urged him to get up. At first the agent was completely uncooperative before deciding that getting up would be the best way to shut Neal up.

Sadly that plan didn't work out the way Peter had imagined since the con artist in question kept up a steady stream of soft chatter while they worked their way over to the other side of the room.

Leaning Peter up against the wall by the door, Neal carefully opened the heavy door and peeked out. The coast was clear in both ways and the younger man quickly grabbed Peter and hurried down the deserted corridor.

Thirty minutes later a tiring Neal Caffrey focused his blue eyes on the last door with a fierce glance of determination. All that lay between him and freedom was that door. "Come on Peter." He urged as he gently tugged on the agent's arm. Peter's eyes were glazed and Neal could feel the heat emanating from him in an alarming degree. Neal could tell that Peter was using the last of his reserves to stumble along after him and prayed that his friend could hold out just a little longer.

His own body protested every movement, breath or even thought; and Neal knew that if Peter collapsed then the two of them would never be able to get out. Readjusting his hold on the older agent, Neal strode to the door, yanked it open and practically had to carry his friend down the steep hill outside of it. His arms were trembling and his ribs starting a World War III between themselves and the rest of his body.

Setting Peter down, Neal stumbled up against a tree and leaned there for a few seconds. His breaths were coming in sharp, painful gasps and an overwhelming sense of weariness threatened to send him into the oblivion of sleep. Shaking his head in protestation, Neal knew that he couldn't allow that to happen. If that happened then they were both screwed.

* * *

El sat on her couch drinking a mug of warm cider as she gazed into the flames that were providing a comforting heat with a sigh. Satchmo was curled up beside her, his head in her lap while his tail thumped worriedly.

She glanced over at the lab with a small smile. "Daddy will be home soon, Satch." The dog responded by licking her hands and sniffing at the mug in her hand hopefully.

El laughed and pulled the mug away, "nope sorry, not for you buddy." There was a disappointed whine which made El snort into the drink that she was currently attempting to sip at.

Thank the Lord she had Satchmo with her or else she didn't know what she would do. The dog cocked his head to the side and scooted closer to her so that his body was snuggling with a combination of the couch as well as her.

She returned her gaze to the fire and wondered what her husband was doing and praying that he was ok.

* * *

Jones groaned in frustration as the video from the hospital rewound itself. This was his twenty-sixth time watching the feed and he was getting extremely impatient. His eyes roved the screen, watching, and hoping for some sort of clue that Neal might have left.

Nothing.

Hell, Neal wasn't even on any of the hospital's cameras and yet the con was definitely not anywhere in the building. They had looked through every room, treating those with people in them with more respect, and had found absolutely nothing. And now the cameras were showing diddly squat as well.

"Diana have you found anything yet?"

"No, you?"

"Nadda."

"We'll find them."

"I know that, but the question is _when_."

* * *

The alarm had gone off a long time ago and ever since then Neal had been forcing Peter to keep pace with him as he pushed his way through the thick drifts of snow. His muscles were cramping and his body was slowly turning numb but Neal didn't seem to notice. The younger man had 'borrowed' some real clothes before leaving the complex and quickly put most of his own layers on Peter as soon as he saw the agent shiver. Luckily the older man had been too out of it to protest and still was.

Neal coughed harshly, body doubling over and an intense look of pain flittered across his face. There was a concerned grunt from Peter but Neal shook his head and forced himself to keep going. The two men had already put thirteen miles between themselves and the building from hell but Neal wouldn't be satisfied until they were either at his apartment, Peter's house (preferably with El home), or the FBI Headquarters.

There was an old barn in the distance and Neal set his sights on the building. It looked to be a couple of miles off, a barely recognizable speck in the distance, but the young man set it as his goal. He would stop to rest once he arrived there, hoping that the building would provide at least a little relief from the cold.

Teeth chattering, Neal moved forward.

Halfway to his destination Neal staggered and almost lost his footing. The con was able to walk a few more yards before stumbling again, this time his vision failing at the same time. Neal was unable to keep his footing and went down hard, Peter falling across his ribs, sending a searing bolt of pain to shoot through his system.

Teeth gritted, Neal gently pushed Peter off of him and lay in the same position for several long minutes as he tried to catch his breath and muster the will power to get back up again. The idea of just lying still and slowly drifting off to sleep was very tempting but Neal knew that it would lead to death and he couldn't do that to Peter. He had to at least make sure that the agent was able to go home to Elizabeth.

Hauling himself up to his feet painfully, Neal reached down and urged Peter to get back up to his feet as well. There was a heavy sigh from the agent but Neal ignored it and made his numbed and stiff legs to keep moving.

By the time the pair had reached the barn yard Neal had fallen too many times to count. He was steadily growing weaker and when he felt his legs begin to go out again he shoved Peter away from him, forcing the agent to stagger a step towards the barn on his own.

This time when Neal collapsed, he was unable to summon enough strength to get up or even crawl. A coughing fit snatched him up into its cruel grip and Neal whimpered softly. His body couldn't take much more abuse and Neal was scared.

Was he going to die out here in the middle of this damn barnyard and never be found? Would his feverish friend even remember who he was? Neal shuddered, not wanting to think about the possibility of Peter not remembering him, and leaving his body unrecognized in the barn yard

Fear helped Neal fight off the exhaustion for almost an hour as his lips slowly tuned blue from the cold. Peter had gotten into the barn and Neal was pleased to see that his friend wasn't shivering quite as badly as he had been and that some color was returning to the agent's face. Satisfied that Peter would be ok, Neal gave into the unrelenting clutches of sleep.

* * *

**_Author's Notes: Once again, I apologize for the long delay in getting this chapter written. That was the worst writer's block I have EVER experienced and to be honest with you guys, I wasn't very pleased with this chapter but I do hope that you like it! I got home from school today and literally forced myself to go ahead and type it up so…yeah this is the outcome. Took me the ridiculous time of three and some odd minutes to write…_**

**_I just couldn't let some other chick buy Neal, me no likey! But she isn't out of the picture yet, (she did lose her purchase after all) and in the next chapter Blackney's shadow will stir things up a bit…. _**

**_Please leave me a review! I reaaallly like reviews, their like food and food is good!_**


	12. Return to Reality

**Author's Notes****: First of all I'd like to thank you guys for the continued reviews for this story! Whenever I get one in my email it always makes me smile and want to write some more for you guys. Shortly after the last chapter was posted my computer wouldn't load Fanfiction anymore which made it impossible to upload. A year went by and I was still having problems and had by then lost my muse completely. Early this past March I finally got Fanfiction working again and was able to write a short piece in regards to the season finale. I had been intending to write this chapter then however another roadblock (**well some of you might see it as a block, ,my Supernatural readers probably don't**) came and barred the way of any real progress with the White Collar stories. I got hooked on a TV show called Supernatural and especially hooked on an angel named Castiel. I've put those fics on hold for now until I can get some of these White Collar stories finished. There have been comments on the awful cliffhanger I left you with and boy have I felt guilty about not updating! Its not because of the comments per say but more of my writer's conscious. **

**The first thing you can thank for my re-entry into the WC world would be the smexy movie "Magic Mike". Not about Neal I know but damn... ***clears throat*** enough said when it comes to that... The second thing you can thank is that USA actually whumped Neal! I just about squealed when that happened! And hence the cruel WC muse was finally woken up. My writing style has changed since I've been gone but I can only hope that you guys will still enjoy it! As always I don't own White Collar I'm just dusting off the toys and putting them back in the sandbox.**

* * *

The old man was muttering profanities to himself as he trudged through the thickening snow to his barn. His wife was yelling instructions to him from the front door of the rickety old house and he rolled baleful eyes up to the heavens. "Lord give me the strength to keep from making her hush." He mumbled jokingly. He'd never hurt his wife but sometimes he really did wish she would be quiet. She had been nagging him about dishes a few minutes ago and he'd hastily exited the room with the excuse of going to see how the chickens were holding up. Happy chickens meant that there would be eggs for breakfast in the morning and he intended to keep the birds happy. It was part of the reason why the excuse was one that she couldn't argue about him doing.

Henry was about half way to his barn when he noticed a strange lump of snow in front of it. He didn't have any bales of hay or bushes in that area so his interest was piqued. Cautiously stepping forward he studied the mound for a long moment before crouching down by it and warily started brushing the snow off of it. A tattered shirt came into view and before long there was a young man laying silently in front of him. His lips were an unhealthy blue and his skin held a deathly pallor to it. Stifling a gasp of surprise, Henry gently reached down and felt for a pulse. It was a weak flutter beneath his fingertips and he tried to think of a way to get the young man back to the house. If he stayed out here much longer then he would surely die; his body was no longer shivering to generate heat.

If he was in his prime then Henry could have easily picked him up and carried him to the house but those days were long gone. Deciding that moving him to the barn would be the best thing for now, Henry opened up the double doors and turned back to gently grip younger man under his shoulders before pulling as he backed up. Unsure of what else to do for now, Henry grabbed some of the old horse blankets and gently moved the man onto them. Then he grabbed some more and lay them over the slack form as if the kid was his son. "I'll be right back." He told him softly before trudging back up to the house. Henry never noticed an older man sneak out of one of the stalls and crouch down next to his young friend.

* * *

"Neal?" Peter's voice croaked out of his throat as he searched for his friend with a quick sweep of his eyes. There was no sign of his friend and worry spiked through his system as he carefully moved forward. He could remember Neal shoving him into the barn but he couldn't remember the younger man following him. Which could mean either one of two things. Either the younger man had crawled into the barn after Peter had lost consciousness or he was still out in the snow. The agent didn't know how long it had been since he'd entered the barn and the fear grew until his stomach felt like it was twisting in his gut. He clamored to his feet unsteadily and had to use the stall next to him for support. There was some sort of movement going on outside and Peter froze unsure of what to do. Had the men found them? Were they taking Neal right now? His heart rate picked up and the FBI Agent knew that he would be useless to his consultant if he was captured as well. The pile of hay wasn't the most inconspicuous of hiding places but it sure as hell was better then nothing. Peter hesitated for the fraction of a second before swallowing thickly and moving as quickly as he could to his hiding place. There was a questioning nicker from one of the horses and he closed his eyes and prayed that the mare wouldn't give him away. It was only a few minutes after he'd gotten settled into the pile of hay when the double doors opened up. Peter swallowed nervously before frowning when he saw a portly old man carefully dragging his missing consultant into the barn.

He didn't appear to be a threat and Peter breathed out a soft sigh of relief before closing his eyes when a sudden bout of nausea struck him. Swallowing the bile that had risen in the back of his throat he quickly took in Caffrey's condition. For a brief moment his hope plummeted. The younger man looked dead; his lips were blue and he was incredibly pale. Not to mention that he wasn't moving and at a first glance it looked like he wasn't even breathing.

The old man came back with a bundle of horse blankets in his arms and Peter watched with approval as the barn owner carefully made a makeshift bed for his friend. A few minutes later the old man had left, the barn doors shutting gently behind him and Peter crept out of his hiding place. He was fairly certain that the old farmer didn't have anything to do with Black Market ring and that he could be trusted. When he had reached Neal's side, Peter gently removed the blankets covering him so that he could check to see just how badly the former con artist was injured. He made his search brief and gentle so as to not aggravate the injuries and be able to cover him up again as quickly as possible. The con's healing ribs had at the least been cracked and set back any progress that had been made in the healing process. His breathing was a rattling rasp and Peter was concerned that the younger man might have a bad case of pneumonia. Knowing that his friend had probably been exposed to the cold for quite some time, Peter began to check his limps for any signs of frostbite. The tips of Neal's fingers had started to turn black and his hand was an angry red color. Peter swallowed at what that might imply about the younger man's ability to use his fingers effectively in the future. Knowing that Neal's blood would need some help getting circulated again the agent started to gently rub his arms and legs before positioning himself behind the younger man. Nausea hit him again and the agent had to pause in his ministrations in order to keep the world from spinning completely out of control. He needed to stay conscious… Neal needed him to stay conscious. Swallowing thickly and closing his eyes Peter carefully maneuvered himself so that he was behind Neal. Leaning forward he gently hooked his hands under the consultant's arm pits and pulled him so that he was leaning against Peter's body, his head resting on his chest. The agent ran his fingers through Caffrey's thick hair soothingly when the consultant shifted uneasily with a low groan of pain. "Its ok Neal, I've got you. You're safe…" The words left his lips soothingly as he tried to offer some solace to the younger man. Neal quieted at the sound of Peter's voice and stopped moving.

Trust; it was truly amazing what such a simple thing could do. Peter swallowed a bit thickly at the amount that Neal had just displayed and the agent would do his best to honor that trust. A yawn creased his features as he let his eyes slip shut and he slept. Peter would have normally fought off the sleep but with Neal being so close to him he would know when the youth woke up. Peter was a light sleeper when he was stressed or worried and both of those words currently defined his emotional state of being.

"Mary?" Henry called for his wife rather loudly as he opened the back door and stepped back inside the house. "Mary!" He tried again, this time quite a bit louder and was rewarded with a loud and somewhat cranky reply.

"Mary grab the old blankets in that chest and bring them downstairs!" Henry instructed without providing a reason while he started to get the dryer ready. The boy in the barn would be needing all the warmth he could get and this was one of the best ways to provide immediate warmth. "Throw them in the dryer and start it when you get down here, I'll be right back."

Henry snagged a fluffy pillow out of the guest bedroom on his way out the door before he trudged through the thick snow quickly. He paused in the entry way for a brief moment before shutting the door and scowling at the newest stranger. The man cradling the boy seemed to be sleeping and looked to be in as rough a condition as his companion. A stray twig crunched underfoot and Henry cursed mentally when it woke the older of the two companions up.

Wary brown eyes regarded him wearily before the man nodded. For whatever reason he looked like a prey animal trying to figure out if the strange creature in front of it was a friend or foe.

Henry held up the pillow in a peace offering, showing the other man that he meant no harm. "I thought this might be a bit more comfortable for him then the straw." He explained placidly. "My name is Henry and my wife's name is Mary."

"Peter." The tense reply came out a bit shorter then Peter had intended as he took the offered pillow slowly.

"I hope you don't mind my asking but what are you two doing all the way out here in this kind of weather?"

Peter stiffened slightly before sighing softly. He'd known that question was coming but he had been hoping that it would be a while longer before it was voiced.

Henry must have seen his reluctance to answer the question because he stepped back slightly, "I'm not meddling with your business, whatever it is…."

The cautious look in the old man's eyes sent bells ringing in Peter's head and he narrowed his eyes slightly, "What do you mean by that?"

"I'm not trying to cause any problems, just take what you need and go." Henry mumbled as he crept closer to the barn doors, a nervous gleam lighting up his eyes. "Use old Bell if you need transport but please," a note of fondness snuck into Henry's voice, "just return her to me unharmed as soon as you can."

"Do you think we're a part of the Black Market thugs?" Peter's voice lifted hopefully. If the man knew about the Market then perhaps he would help them out, especially if he wanted the scoundrels that ran it gone.

There was a nervous nod in response and Peter smiled in relief. "We aren't from there Henry, well we are but we weren't there willingly. They were trying to sell us when we busted out." The agent looked up at the older man and allowed a bit of hope to show in his eyes, "If you know about it then you can help us take them out of business for good."

Henry was silent for a long moment before he nodded and then frowned in confusion. "Wait, what do you mean take them out?"

"I'm an FBI Agent and this is my Consultant." Peter answered quickly, "I'd show you my badge but I don't… " he frowned as he tried to think back to where it was. "I don't know where it is."

Henry stood still for a long moment before muttering something about being right back and leaving. The door shut with a solid thunk and Peter shivered when the draft of cold air reached him.

Shivers ran through Neal's body in reaction to the sudden cold and for the first time in what felt like a very long time, Peter Burke felt his lips slowly pull back into a small smile. It was barely noticeable to those who didn't know him but it was there.

If Neal's body was shivering again that meant that the blood flow was starting to return to the surface. Peter hesitantly shook the younger man gently, "Neal? Neal if you can hear me open your eyes."

There was no reaction from the consultant and the agent sighed in disappointment. He knew that it was foolish to think that Neal would wake just because his body was starting to allow its blood to flow like it normally did. Sighing quietly, Peter waited for Henry's return. He had done everything he could do for Neal given the lack of supplies and his own physical limitations but that didn't mean Peter liked the situation any better then he had before….The last thought that went across his mind before he went to sleep was that it felt like he'd never get back home….

* * *

**Author's Note: As I stated before, your reviews mean quite a bit to me and they're really the only thing that actually got me to sit down and write this chapter after two years... so please, leave me a review! What do you guys think of Henry? ^.^**


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